


Demigods, Wizards, and Alchemists

by Silverdam



Series: When Heroes Meet [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Crossover, Gen, Multiple Crossovers, Original Character Death(s), Teacher Edward Elric, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15977708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverdam/pseuds/Silverdam
Summary: Edward Elric doesn't want to be at Hogwarts for a second year. Percy Jackson, Thalia Grace, and Nico di Angelo would like nothing more than to go back to their own time. Unfortunately, they are all stuck. As the Tri-Wizard tournament is underway, a murderer runs loose; and they won't rest until she is stopped. No matter what it takes.On temporary hiatus until May/April 2019SEQUEL TO 'MYTHS, MAGIC, AND ALCHEMY'





	1. Dreams and Despair

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Percy**

Percy Jackson had a dilemma. Not only that, but for the first time in his short, often miserable life, it was a _normal_ dilemma that any teenager might have. Well, if you looked on the surface, that is. Percy Jackson wanted – no, _needed_ – to be at the Quidditch World Cup. The only problem was…he didn’t have a ticket, and he had no way of getting one.

“What are we going to _do?”_ Thalia repeated for the fifth time that evening, turning on her heel to continue her pacing through the small tent. “At least one of us needs to be there to make sure nothing happens…how are we supposed to get a ticket?”

Percy shrugged helplessly from his spot on the floor. He leaned back slightly as Thalia passed him again, not wanting to be stepped on. “Maybe Nico could shadow-travel in and keep an eye on them that way?” Percy suggested.

“But isn’t that too risky?” Nico questioned. “If I get seen then that’s going to raise a lot of questions. Everyone thinks that we’re in America for the summer.”

Percy shrugged again. “So, don’t be seen.”

“Thanks Percy,” Nico said dryly. “You’re a real life saver, you know that?”

“I do my best,” Percy replied with a smirk.

Thalia tugged at her hair in frustration. “We don’t have any other options,” she growled. “There’s no way for us to get tickets because we have no money…”

“I told you that camping out in a tent for the whole summer was a bad idea,” Percy muttered.

“Well I didn’t see _you_ throwing out any better suggestions!” Thalia snapped, glaring down at Percy.

“…Fair enough.”

“As risky as it is,” Thalia continued with a sigh, “we’re going to have to send you, Nico.” She turned to face the boy with a worried look. “Do you think you can handle it?”

Nico scoffed. “Of course I can handle it! I’ve handled way worse!”

“Yeah, and ‘way worse’ almost killed you,” Percy reminded him grimly.

Nico ducked his head. “I’ll be careful,” he promised quietly. “I won’t over exert myself – just a jump there and a jump back.”

Thalia nodded, satisfied. “You better keep that promise,” she warned him.

Percy grabbed his bag that was lying near him and dug around in it. After several seconds of searching, he found what he was looking for. “Here.” Percy held out Annabeth’s invisibility cap. “Take this so you won’t be seen.”

Nico accepted the hat with a nod. “Thanks.”

“You’d better not lose it,” Percy warned. “Annabeth will _kill_ me if I don’t bring her hat back.”

“As amusing as that would be to watch,” Nico said with a smirk, “I’ll do my best to keep track of it.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard because it _should_ be on you head the entire time,” Thalia reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nico grumbled, falling back onto one of the makeshift mattresses that took up much of the tent’s space. “Don’t be seen, don’t lose the hat, keep an eye on Harry.” Nico held up a finger for each task he listed. “Am I missing anything?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Thalia.

“If you see Elsie, don’t engage with he unless absolutely necessary,” Thalia said, crossing her arms over her chest. “We have no idea how dangerous she is; not to mention if you’re seen fighting–”

“I get it, I get it,” Nico said, annoyed. “Don’t be seen. Trust me, I’m good at that.” He gave them a reassuring grin. “Quit worrying. Nothing’s going to go wrong.”

“Famous last words,” Percy muttered under his breath. Nico glared at him and Percy raised his hands in defense. “Hey, I’m just saying, words like that are _asking_ for something to go wrong.”

~o~O~o~

“So, how did it go?” Thalia demanded the instant that Nico appeared inside the tent.

“You still have the hat, right?” Percy asked at the same time

Nico, still breathing heavily from the effects of his shadow-traveling, took several deep breaths before responding. “Everything was fine, as far as I could tell,” he assured them, sitting down where he stood. “It all happened like it was supposed to – the Death Eaters attacking, the house elf being accused – everything.”

Percy let out a breath that he felt he had been holding since Nico left. _‘We’ve messed up so many things already…thank the gods this isn’t another thing to add to the list.’_

“And here’s the hat.” Nico half-heartedly tossed the baseball cap to Percy, who let out another breath that he had been holding for just as long.

Thalia looked as relieved as Percy felt. “Only a few more days until we’re back at Hogwarts,” she said, seemingly assuring herself as much as the two boys. “Then we’ll be able to keep a closer eye on everything – or every _one,_ rather.” Thalia gave Nico a worried look. “Are you alright?” She asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t look so good.”

Percy drew his attention back to Nico, who he realized didn’t look any better then he had when he first arrived.

“I’ll be alright,” Nico said, brushing off Thalia’s hand. “I’ve been shadow traveling too much, trying to keep tabs on Harry and the others – but I’ll be fine.”

Thalia didn’t look convinced. “No more shadow traveling until you’re _fully_ recovered,” she ordered, fixing Nico under a fierce glare. “I mean it, Death Breath. No exceptions.” Reaching into her bag, Thalia pulled out a bottle of nectar and tossed it to Nico.

Nico caught the bottle and rolled his eyes at Thalia. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he grumbled. “And aren’t we supposed to be saving this for emergencies?” He added, holding up the nectar bottle.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “I think you fading into oblivion qualifies as an emergency,” he said.

“I’m not even _close_ to being that bad,” Nico muttered, but he unscrewed the bottle and took a drink anyways. “There, happy?” Nico was still frowning, but Percy saw with satisfaction that some color had returned to the pale boy’s face. Well, ‘color’ was a strong word, Percy decided. ‘Less like an ashtray’ was more accurate.

Nico half-crawled, half-walked to his makeshift bed. “Wake me up in a week,” he mumbled, curling himself around his blanket.

“We should sleep too,” Thalia said, lowering her voice as Nico’s breathing became deeper, a sure sign of him being asleep. “Maybe you’ll get some more information,” she said.

Percy shook his head. “I’ve had the same dream for the entire summer, Thalia. What are the chances of it changing now?”

“Well, maybe you’ll notice something new,” Thalia said, traces of aggravation seeping into her tone. Sighing, she turned to look at Percy. “We need _something_ ,” she said. “Whatever it is that Elsie is planning…from what Luna told us, it’s happening this year.”

Percy nodded grimly. “I remember – the graveyard, where the three great powers come together,” he recited. “Assuming that the graveyard she was talking about is _that_ graveyard, then we have until the end of spring to stop her.”

“Right,” Thalia said. “And from what we’ve seen of her…she’s not going to slip up any time soon. At this point, the only additional information about her we’re going to get will probably be from your dreams.”

“Too bad I can’t control what I dream about,” Percy said sardonically. He fell back onto his bed with a sigh, and heard Thalia do the same soon after he closed his eyes.

_Darkness. That is always how it starts. An endless void, filled with silence. Then voices. Whispers. Barely distinguishable, slowly growing in volume. A murmuring that fills the void, overlapping voices causing an incessant buzzing. To hear even fragments of a sentence is nearly impossible, but it can be done…_

_“You heard?”_

_“Awful, isn’t it?”_

_“Hard believe something so horrible…”_

_“His poor family…”_

_“He and his siblings were really close, weren’t they? To lose him in an accident like that…”_

_“Really? I heard…”_

_“Seriously? Her? I mean, even for a Slytherin…”_

_“Her own brother…can’t be true…”_

_‘Stop…’_

_“I guess it makes sense…she was the only one there, after all.”_

_“Even so, do really think she would do that?”_

_‘No! It was an accident, I swear…’_

_“Didn’t you see how she treated him before it happened? She probably jumped at the chance!”_

_“Forget chance, she probably planned the whole thing ahead of time! Why else would they have gone_ **_there_ ** _, alone?”_

_‘No, I didn’t! I would never! I-I wouldn’t…’_

_“Shouldn’t get on her bad side…”_

_“Yeah, no telling what she would do to someone who_ **_isn’t_ ** _family…”_

_“Accident? Yeah, sure. Who’d believe that?”_

**_“Stop it!”_**

_In a breathtaking instant, everything comes into focus. A crowded hallway. Black robes. One girl stands out from the rest; wide, red-rimmed eyes, gasping breaths, a rumpled uniform. Her wand is out, though she can’t seem to hold it steady; she aims her shaking wand from person to person, unable to land on anyone for more than a few seconds._

**_“All of you, shut up! You don’t know anything!”_**

_The crowd slowly backs away, casting fearful glances to the wand in the girls hand. The darkness begins to encroach upon the edges of reality. The whispers are heard again._

_“Unstable…”_

_“Dangerous…”_

_“She scares me…”_

_Darkness again. Silence._

_‘I can’t take this anymore…I have to get away…I’ll come back, eventually…but for now; I’m leaving…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry Mathew…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…I swear…I’m so sorry…’_

_Guilt. Soul crushing, never ending, all-consuming, your fault your fault your fault_ **_your fault your fault YOUR FAULT –_ **

_‘I’ll fix it! I swear I will! I’ll make it right somehow! I have to! I can’t live like this…I can’t…I’ll save him…I will…somehow…there has to be a way…there’s nothing magic can’t do…how hard could time travel be, right?’_

_Darkness. So much darkness. It goes on for so long…years and years, decades of darkness…decades of searching, of planning, of trying, of reaching yet never accomplishing anything. How long can a human live like this? How long before they give in to the despair?_

_‘Mathew…I swear…I’ll save you…I’ll make the others pay…I will…’_

_“Excuse me? Sorry, it’s just – you look lost. You aren’t from around here, are you?”_

_“Uh…n-no, I’m not.”_

_‘Play innocent. She can’t know, how could she…’_

_“I didn’t think so. Maybe I can help you?”_

_She doesn’t want help from anyone she can’t let anyone get close to her they could find out they would blame her it’s all her fault she can’t let her know – but something about the concern and kindness in those golden eyes…_

_“Yeah…maybe you can help me…um – I’m Elsie. Elsie Taylor.”_

_The woman offers her hand. “Nicole Elric. Pleased to meet you.”_

_Darkness again. But for the first time; hope. Searching, planning, reaching, and finally getting somewhere. Power…power beyond her wildest dreams…and finally, a plan._

_‘All I have to do is–’_

With a jolt like an electric shock, Percy’s eyes flew open.

~o~O~o~

“Nothing new? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Thalia, I’m sure,” Percy repeated.

“And it stopped in the same place?”

“Yes, Thalia.”

“And the conversations were all the same?”

_“Yes,_ Nico.”

“And–”

“ _YES_ , it was all the same! It ended at the same place that it always does, in the same way that it always does, causing the same headache that it always does, and followed by the same questions–”

“Okay, we get it,” Thalia interrupted crossly.

“Next time you might want to save the interrogation for when we’re _not_ inside a crowded station,” Percy advised. “Or better yet, don’t do it at all and _trust me_ when I say that it was all the same!”

Thalia merely huffed in response and continued to navigate towards platform nine and three-quarters. Percy smirked and followed with Nico close behind. Several days after the Quidditch World Cup, they were finally heading back to Hogwarts, where, hopefully, they would begin to make progress. Percy hoped that maybe with other things to focus on, such as ensuring that the school year went _exactly_ as it was supposed to, Thalia would be able to leave him alone about his dream.

Not only that, but Edward Elric would be at Hogwarts. With any luck, he could answer some pressing questions; mainly, did he have a relative named Nicole Elric. As far as Percy knew from looking through Edward’s mail – er – _investigating_ – the only person that the alchemist had regular contact with (who was also a relative) was his brother. There was no mention of anyone named Nicole in any letters or notes that Percy and the others had gotten their hands on; though, to be fair, they hadn’t read very much.

“Percy, pay attention!” Nico hissed, nudging him from behind. “It’s your turn!”

Percy turned, startled, to see that Thalia had already disappeared behind the brick wall. “Right, sorry,” he muttered to Nico before hurrying after her.

Nico passed through soon after, and the three demigods hurried onto the train. Once inside, it was quite the adventure to find the correct compartment – what with all the people moving around carrying luggage and the hallways being much too narrow – fortunately, Ron spotted them.

“Oi! Percy! Thalia! Nico! Over here!” The tall ginger waved at them enthusiastically from a compartment door halfway along the train. The three lugged their baggage to the compartment and were soon comfortably seated with their friends.

“How have you been doing all summer?” Ron asked eagerly. “You heard about the World Cup, I’m sure,” he continued, not giving them a chance to respond. “I would’ve invited you three but we didn’t have enough tickets, sorry – you don’t believe what the Prophet says, do you? Most of it’s a load of rubbish, we’ll tell you what really happened.”

Ron proceeded to give a detailed explanation of everything that happened at the Quidditch World Cup, interrupted occasionally by Harry or Hermione.

As the scarlet engine pulled out of the station, Percy was finally able to take a deep breath and relax. So far, so good. At the end of the school year, one of the most traumatic events in Harry Potter’s life would occur; and Percy was going to make sure it happened exactly the way it was supposed to. So far, so good.


	2. Incentives and Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edward is displeased, as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian (The first bit of this chapter is all in Amestrian though, so it’s not bolded)

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Edward**

Edward Elric was less than pleased, to say the least. In fact, he was the _farthest_ thing from pleased. He was the exact _opposite_ of pleased. He was _so far_ from pleased that he may as well have been on the other side of the world from ‘pleased’. To put it simply, he was _majorly_ ticked off.

“You’re sending me _back?_ ” Edward cried, slamming his metal fist against the desk in front of him, which resulted in a fist-shaped dent in the wood. “Why?! Why not send someone else?!”

Colonel Mustang didn’t budge from his seat, completely unfazed by Edward’s rage-induced fist slamming and yelling. No wonder, considering it was a regular occurrence for him. “Fullmetal,” he began calmly, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t damage my furniture any more than necessary. This desk is expensive, you know.”

“It’s not like you paid for it,” Ed retorted, crossing his arms and glaring at the colonel. “And you didn’t answer my question! Why me?”

“Because, Fullmetal,” Colonel Mustang said with a long-suffering sigh, “the headmaster requested for _you_ to be sent, and the Fuhrer decided that it was in Amestris’s best interests to at least _try_ to stay on good terms with England.” Mustang smirked at the fuming boy in front of him. “To be honest, I’m surprised they wanted you to come back at all – you're not exactly the most pleasant individual, after all.”

“Screw you too, bastard,” Ed grumbled before turning back to the subject at hand. “I can’t leave _again!”_ He yelled. “I have more important things to do than waste time teaching a bunch of ignorant _magic_ kids about alchemy!”

Mustang raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you considered the fact that this ‘magic’ could help you get Al’s body back?”

Ed scoffed, glaring even more intensely at the colonel; if that were possible. “Maybe I would have if I’d had any _time_ to do research, but I was too busy _teaching.”_ He spat out the last word as if it had personally offended him.

“Well, that problem has an easy solution.” Mustang laced his fingers together and leaned forward. “Alphonse is permitted to accompany you this year,” he stated.

Edward froze mid-protest, mouth open, and eyed the colonel warily. “What made you change your mind?” He asked cautiously.

“You mean you can’t accept my actions as a show of generosity?” Mustang asked with mock dejection. “I’m offended, Fullmetal.”

“I’m sure,” Ed retorted, rolling his eyes. “I don’t like being in debt to anyone, least of all _you._ ”

Mustang merely smirked again and slid a folder across the desk. “This has all the information you need. You’ll be taking the same train as last year.”

Edward begrudgingly accepted the papers, a scowl fixed upon his face. “This had better be worth it,” he hissed before turning on his heel and stomping out of the office.

~o~O~o~

Three weeks later, Edward was no less happy with his assignment as he and Alphonse walked up to the castle doors.

**“I can’t believe that bastard of a colonel convinced me to come back here,”** Ed grumbled, gazing up at the imposing castle in front of him. Most people would be in awe when facing such an impressive structure, but Edward didn’t feel anything but resentment towards the building, along with everything it represented.

**“I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think, Brother,”** Alphonse said in an attempt to placate him. **“Maybe we’ll find something useful on how to get our bodies back!”**

**“Yeah, maybe,”** Edward said warily, kicking at a loose stone. Truth be told, he still didn’t trust this ‘magic’; it was too unpredictable, too subject to change; and, most disconcerting of all, it completely ignored the law of equivalent exchange. Edward knew from experience that disregarding equivalence had terrible consequences, and he didn’t want to risk Al’s body with something so volatile.

“Mr. Elric!” A voice called from the now-open castle doors.

Edward looked up to see a familiar woman standing just outside the entrance. Professor McGonagall smiled as the brothers crossed the small distance between them.

“I’m glad to see that you’ve arrived safely,” McGonagall said, nodding at both of them.

Edward put on a not-entirely-fake smile as he nodded back. “Good to see you again – ma’am.” Edward mentally winced at his difficulty with finding the correct English words, all the while berating himself for not practicing the language. _‘It’s not like I thought I would ever have to use it again,’_ he complained internally.

“The students will be arriving tomorrow evening,” McGonagall informed them as she ushered them into the entrance hall. “In the meantime, the library is free to use, and you will be in the same room as last year.” McGonagall paused. “I suppose I should provide you with a map,” she realized. “I don’t suppose you remember the way?”

Edward was loath to admit that he did not, but Al’s polite ‘yes please’ saved him the trouble. Not a minute late the professor had provided them with two identical maps she had seemingly pulled from thin air. Edward forced himself to ignore the blatant disregard for several laws of nature, knowing that he would once again have to become accustomed to it.

McGonagall departed soon after telling them when to arrive at the Great Hall for meals, leaving the brothers free for the remainder of the day. True to form, they spent that day in the library.

**“If we could find a way to harness whatever energy magic uses to perform its spells, then we could trade that for your body,”** Edward theorized, dropping a stack of books onto the table Al had chosen before seating himself next to his brother. **“Kind of like a philosophers stone; but without human lives.”**

Al nodded in agreement. **“In that case, the first thing we need to do is figure out what exactly it is that powers their magic.”**

**“Exactly.”** Ed grabbed the first book from his stack and flipped it open. **“Let’s get to work.”**

~o~O~o~

The next evening found an extremely tired Edward Elric seated at the head table with the rest of the professors as students poured into the Great Hall. After a full twenty-four hours of research with very few breaks, he was having trouble holding his eyes open. On top of that, a pounding headache had creeped its way into his forehead; most likely stemming from the lack of sleep.

Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows at him. “Edward, you look exhausted,” she said with a tsk of her tongue. At least, that’s what Edward thought she had said – his lack of sleep and headache made it harder than usual to interpret English.

Ed waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll survive,” he managed. It was clear that the school nurse did not approve, but she didn’t say anything else; likely because of the tune that was now bursting from the old hat.

Edward took the opportunity to rest his head in his flesh hand and close his eyes, even if it was just for a minute…he was startled out of his near-asleep state when thunderous applause echoed through the hall, marking the end of the song. The next several minutes weren’t much quieter, as Professor McGonagall proceeded with the school’s odd ‘sorting ceremony’. After what seemed like an eternity in Edward’s sleep-hazed mind, ‘Whitby, Kevin’ took his place at the Hufflepuff table and the food arrived.

Edward still wasn’t fond of his meals popping into existence right in front of him, but he had somewhat become accustomed to it. He remembered his first meal at Hogwarts, and turning to Professor Lupin in horror, asking if wizards could simply make _this much food appear out of nothing?!_ Needless to say, he was quite relieved to hear that food preparation was, in fact, necessary.

The fulfilling meal ended with Edward having an even harder time resisting the urge to lay his heavy head on the table in front of him and sleep. He settled for resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes as Dumbledore began his usual announcements; 'the forbidden forest is forbidden, blah blah blah'; and something about that ridiculous sport that they played – quidditch, was it?

Edward didn't have the interest nor the energy to listen close enough to what was being said. Whatever it was, the student body did not seem pleased. The uproar was so great that Edward went so far as to open his previously–closed eyes and looked around to ensure that no one had died.

He was glad that he chose that moment to pay attention because an instant after he raised his head, the door to the Great Hall banged open, revealing a man swathed in a black cloak, leaning on a tall staff. His unceremonious entrance startled everyone into silence (in fact, it reminded Edward a great deal of his own entrance the previous year).

The man didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the stares he was attracting. He pulled off his hood, revealing a head of unruly, dark grey hair, then began walking towards the teachers' table. Edward immediately noted the clunk–thump rhythm of the man's steps; a dead giveaway of a prosthetic leg. After all, Ed had heard the same pattern in his own footsteps often enough.

Suddenly wide awake, Edward's eyes followed the man as he neared the table. Lightning flashed from the ceiling, illuminating the stranger's face. Several audible gasps sounded from the students, and for good reason. Edward had seen military officers with scars before; heck, he had plenty of scars of his own; but this man's face was by far one of the worst he had laid eyes on. His nose seemed to be missing a chunk, and it looked as if every inch of his exposed skin was riddled with deep lines and slashes.

Then there were his eyes – or eye, singular – that is, only one of his eyes was human. The other eye was a solid, bright, near-glowing blue, and it whirled around, pointing in a new direction every second, never stopping to rest for an instant.

The man, upon reaching Dumbledore, offered a scarred hand, which Dumbledore shook without hesitation. Dumbledore seemed to be inquiring something of the stranger, but before Edward could even begin to interpret what was said, the man turned away from the headmaster and took a seat at the table, only two chairs down from where Edward himself sat.

Dumbledore turned once again to face the students he had been addressing. “May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Professor Moody,” he said cheerily.

Silence reigned throughout the hall, broken only by Dumbledore and Hagrid’s clapping, which sounded quite pathetic all by itself. Professor Moody continued to show no emotion and began investigating the remainders of food on the table.

Dumbledore continued his announcements as if nothing had happened, and Edward forced himself to tear his eyes away from the intriguing professor and listen to the remainder of Dumbledore's speech.

“As I was saying," the headmaster spoke, “we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

“You’re JOKING!” A voice cried out in disbelief.

_‘That's right,’_ Edward remembered. _‘There's that stupid tournament this year…freakin’ wizards. As if flying around on broomsticks wasn't crazy enough.’_

“I am not joking, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore was saying. “Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar–”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, interrupting the headmaster’s spiel.

“Er – but maybe this is not the time…no…” said Dumbledore. “Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.”

Dumbledore began a lengthy explanation of the Triwizard Tournament, while Edward did exactly as he had suggested; letting his mind stray to the new professor.

_‘He’s definitely seen his fair share of battles,’_ Edward mused. _‘But the question is, did he get all those scars because he’s bad at defending himself, or because he’s unlucky?’_ Watching the new professor gaze suspiciously around the hall, his bright blue eye spinning restlessly, Ed decided that the man was not one to be trifled with. Something about that eye gave Ed pause…as if it could see straight through his defenses and lay all of his secrets bare. Edward scowled and looked away.

_‘Quit being ridiculous,’_ he scolded himself. _‘It’s just a freaky wizard eye.’_ Stealing another sideways glance towards Professor Moody, Edward found himself locking eyes with the man. The professor held his gaze for a single heartbeat, during which Ed felt a chill go down his spine. Then Professor Moody took a swig out of the flask at his hip and went back to the food in front of him.

Edward forced himself to ignore the unsettling feeling that had worked its way into his gut. It didn’t mean anything; it was a feeling, and what did a feeling prove? Absolutely nothing. Besides, Dumbledore obviously trusted him if he hired him to teach students.

_'I'm being paranoid. He creeps me out, that's all. There’s no reason to think he’s evil or something.’_ With that, Edward effectively shoved his uneasy thoughts aside.


	3. Curses and Classes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

 

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Harry**

After a miserable summer spent with his relatives, Harry Potter was positively thrilled to be back at Hogwarts with his friends. He had missed everything about the old castle – the moving stairways, the ghosts drifting through the halls, the feasts in the Great Hall – even classes, along with all of their homework, were something to look forward to.

Well, most of them, anyway. Professor Trelawney, when not handing out dire predictions of Harry’s death, was handing out loads of homework. Harry hadn’t yet decided which was more annoying.

“Miserable old bat,” Ron grumbled as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. “Giving us that much work the first week back…”

“It was your own fault,” Thalia reprimanded him. “Honestly Ron, you should be more respectful of teachers, even if it is Trelawney…”

“She didn’t have to give us _all_ so much homework though,” Percy moaned.

Nico rolled his eyes. “You guys are making big deal out of nothing. It’s not _that_ bad.”

“Not that bad?!” Ron protested, turning to Nico with a look of disbelief. “It’ll take all weekend!”

“Lots of homework?” said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. “Professor Vector didn’t give  _us_  any at all!”

“Well, bully for Professor Vector,” Ron muttered.

They reached the Entrance Hall, which was packed with people arriving for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line when a loud voice rang out behind them.

“Weasley! Hey, Weasley!”

The six friends halted and turned, each with expressions of distaste as they recognized the speaker. Malfoy was brandishing a copy of the _Daily Prophet,_ flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle, and looking immensely pleased with himself.

“What?” Ron said sharply.

“Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!” Malfoy spoke loudly enough that everyone in the crowded hall was sure to hear him. “Listen to this!” Malfoy spread the paper and began to read:

_FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic’s troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office._

Malfoy paused and looked up, his smug grin growing even wider. “Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley, it’s almost as though he’s a complete nonentity, isn’t it?”

Ron’s hands were clenched at his sides, and he seemed to be mere seconds away from attacking Malfoy, who either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Knowing Malfoy, it was more likely the latter. The blond Slytherin flourished his paper once more and continued reading.

_Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved with a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (‘policemen’) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr Moody’s heavily guarded house, that Mr Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer_  Daily Prophet  _questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene._

Malfoy flipped the paper around. “There’s even a picture, Weasley! A picture of your parents outside their house – if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?”

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron…” He grabbed his friends arm, attempting to steer him away from the potentially dangerous situation.

“Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” Malfoy sneered. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?”

Ron lunged towards Malfoy with a snarl; Harry and Percy barely managed to grab his robes and hold him back.

“You know  _your_  mother, Malfoy?” Harry said, forcing himself to retain his composure. “That expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?”

“Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter,” Malfoy said, his face flushing slightly.

“Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away. He should have known not to turn his back.

A loud _bang_ rang through the hall, and several people screamed. Harry felt something white hot graze the side of his face – he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he’d even touched it, he heard a second _bang_ , and a roar which echoed through the Entrance Hall.

“OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!”

All head whipped towards the sound. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the Entrance Hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry – at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

“Did he get you?” Moody growled dangerously.

“No,” Harry said, his heart pounding in his chest. “Missed.”

“LEAVE IT!” Moody shouted.

“Leave – what?” Harry said, bewildered.

“Not you – him!” Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody’s rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head. Moody started to limp towards Crabbe, Goyle and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking towards the dungeons.

“I don’t think so!” Moody yelled, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upwards once more.

“I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,” growled Moody, as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do …”

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

“Never – do – that – again –” said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upwards again.

Harry wasn’t sure how long this would have continued, but a loud voice interrupted.

“Professor Moody!”

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase, followed closely by Edward, who was peering over the stack of books in his arms.

“Hello, Professor McGonagall; Elric,” said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

“What – what are you doing?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air.

“Teaching,” Moody replied.

The calm way he said it reminded Harry acutely of Edward’s response the previous year when in a similar situation, and he stifled a laugh that would not have been appropriate for the occasion.

“Teach– Moody,  _is that a student?”_ shrieked Professor McGonagall.

“Yep,” said Moody.

_“What?!”_ Ed dropped his books, staring in shock at the ferret that was Malfoy. “You – you–”

“No!” Professor McGonagall cried, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

“Moody, we  _never_  use Transfiguration as a punishment!” said Professor McGonagall weakly. “Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?”

“He might’ve mentioned it, yeah,” said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, “but I thought a good sharp shock –”

“We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of house!” McGonagall shook her head. “Elric attacking students with _spears_ was bad enough last year –”

“Do not compare that with this!” Edward cried. He was still standing on the staircase, eyes locked on Malfoy with an expression of what could only be described as abject horror. “Turning a person into – into that – I would never –” Edward’s accent seemed much stronger than usual, and he was obviously greatly disturbed.

Edward turned and practically ran back up the stairs, leaving the books he had been carrying scattered on the steps. McGonagall watched him go, brow furrowed in concern. Meanwhile, Moody had grabbed Malfoy off the floor and was marching away with him, presumably to the dungeons and Snape’s office.

“Well that was exciting,” Percy said after a minute of silence.

“Quiet,” Ron said. “I have to fix that image in my mind forever…Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret…”

The friends laughed as they found seats around their table. Percy immediately dove for the food, causing Thalia to roll her eyes.

“He really could have hurt Malfoy though,” Hermione said, sobering slightly. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it –”

“Hermione!” Ron snapped. “You’re ruining the best moment of my life!”

“Malfoy’s health aside,” Harry cut in, “Did you see how Ed reacted?”

“Of course I noticed,” Ron said. “He looked bloody traumatized!”

“He’s probably just never seen transfiguration used like that before,” Thalia said, spearing a vegetable on her plate. “He’s only been around magic for less than a year, after all.”

“He saw Siri–Snuffles transform,” Harry remembered. “He looked pretty freaked out then too…”

Percy shrugged. “Maybe it’s something to do with animals then.”

Realizing that Hermione had been unusually silent, Harry turned to his friend to find her shoveling food into her mouth at an alarming speed. “Don’t tell me you’re going back to the library this evening?” Harry said as he watched her.

“Got to,” said Hermione around mouthfuls of food. “Loads to do.”

Ron frowned. “But you told us Professor Vector –”

“It’s not schoolwork,” she said.

Within five minutes, Hermione had cleared her plate and departed. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley. “Moody!” he said. “How cool is he?”

“Beyond cool,” said George, sitting down opposite Fred.

“Supercool,” said the twins’ best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George. “We had him this afternoon,” he informed the younger students.

“What was it like?” Harry asked eagerly.

Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.

“Never had a lesson like it,” said Fred.

“He  _knows_ , man,” said Lee, his voice tinged with awe.

“Knows what?” said Ron, leaning forwards.

“Knows what it’s like to be out there  _doing it_ ,” said George impressively.

“Doing what?” Harry asked.

“Fighting the Dark Arts,” Fred answered.

“He’s seen it all,” George said.

“’Mazing,” said Lee.

“Ron dived into his bag for his timetable. “We haven’t got him ’til Thursday!” He said in dismay.

“Careful,” Nico said with a smirk. “You were excited about Alchemy class and look how _that_ turned out.”

~o~O~o~

By the time Thursday finally arrived, it was sufficed to say that the fourth-year Gryffindors were more than ready for their first class with Professor Moody. They were so eager, in fact, that ten minutes before the class started they were all lined up outside the classroom. All of them, that is, except Hermione, who had been in the library until the last minute.

By the time everyone had found seats throughout the classroom, Harry was practically bursting with anticipation. The room was deathly silent, and the dull clunking of Moody’s clawed foot was clearly heard in the hallway before Moody himself finally entered the room.

“You can put those away,” was the first thing he gruffly demanded, gesturing to their books. “Those books. You won’t need them.”

Exchanging excited glances, the class quickly shoved their books away. Moody pulled out a register and began calling roll, spinning his magical eye to land on each student as they answered.

“Right then,” he said after finishing. “I have a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures – you’ve covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas and werewolves, is that right?”

There was a general murmur of assent.

“But you’re behind – very behind – on dealing with curses,” said Moody. “So I’m here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I’ve got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark –”

“What, aren’t you staying?” Ron blurted out.

Moody’s magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled – the first time Harry had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, and there was an almost evil look to it, but it was a normal gesture; one that seemed to deeply relieve Ron.

“You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s son, eh?” Moody said. “Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago…yeah, I’m staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore…one year, and then back to my quiet retirement.”

He gave a harsh laugh and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

“So – straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms…”

By the end of Professor Moody’s class, Harry wasn’t sure what to think. The lesson had been interesting, to say the least…whether he had enjoyed it or not was another matter entirely. Seeing the very same curse that had killed his parents disturbed Harry more than he liked to admit.

Even at the end of the day, as he, Ron, Percy, Nico, and Thalia sat in the Common Room finishing their Divinations homework, Harry couldn’t stop recalling the way the spider had died…a flash of green, then nothing.

The portrait door suddenly swung open, allowing Hermione to enter, carrying a small box in one hand and a long parchment in the other.

“Hello!” She greeted them brightly. “I’ve just finished."

“So have I!” Ron announced, making one final mark on his chart of predictions before dropping his quill.

Hermione sat down in an empty armchair and set her parchment and box in her lap. Pulling Ron’s parchment closer, she raised her eyebrows.

“Not going to have a very good month, are you,” she commented sardonically.

“Well, at least I’m forewarned,” Ron said with a smirk.

“You seem to be drowning twice,” Hermione informed him.

“Oh, am I?” Ron peered down at his predictions. “I’d better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging Hippogriff.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit obvious you’ve made these up?” Hermione said disapprovingly.

“How dare you!” Ron said in mock outrage. “We’ve been working like house-elves here!”

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“It’s just an expression,” said Ron hastily.

Harry laid down his quill, too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation. “Done,” he said triumphantly, before glancing at Percy, Thalia, and Nico, who hadn’t made much progress. “Don’t tell me you’re writing actual predictions,” he said, eyeing their half-finished papers.

Percy rolled his eyes. “As if,” he scoffed, writing something on his chart. “I just prefer to take my time.”

Harry raised his eyebrows before shaking his head and turning to Hermione. “What’s in the box?” He asked.

“Funny you should ask,” said Hermione, lifting the lid of the box.

The next five minutes consisted of Hermione giving an in-depth explanation of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare – until she was interrupted by Hedwig tapping on the window.

“Hedwig!” Harry cried, running to the window to let the owl fly inside. “About time!” He declared as he untied the letter from Hedwig’s leg. He had been anxiously waiting for a response from Sirius ever since he first sent his letter.

“What does it say?” Hermione asked eagerly as Harry unrolled the parchment.

Harry read the short, hastily written message aloud.

_Harry –_

_I’m flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumours that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore – they’re saying he’s got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he’s reading the signs, even if no one else is._

_I’ll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry._

_Sirius_

Harry looked up at his friends, who were staring at him with wide eyes.

“He’s flying North?” Hermione whispered. “He’s coming _back?_ ”

Harry smacked himself in the head, groaning in frustration. “I shouldn’t have told him,” he moaned. “It’s made him think he’s got to come back!”

“Harry,” Thalia began in a pacifying voice, but Harry cut her off before she could begin to reassure him.

“I’m going to bed.”

With that, Harry stumbled up to his dorm room and into bed, though he didn’t fall asleep immediately. In fact, he lay awake for some time, head spinning with all that had happened. He heard Nico, Percy, and Ron enter the room sometime later, but he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts of guilt to give them any notice.


	4. Potions and Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Percy**

After only two months of being at Hogwarts, Percy wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold up. His problem didn’t stem from the schoolwork, or the teachers, or hiding his true identity from his friends, or even from knowing all that would happen in several months. No; the thing that was pushing Percy closer to the edge was the same dream that had been reoccurring over the entire summer.

The dream itself hadn’t changed at all, but the way in which it ended had. Rather than simply being startled awake, Percy found himself being ripped from his sleep, forced into wakefulness in such an abrupt manner that it left him shaking and gasping for breath, with an intense pain in his head. The first time it happened, on Percy’s second night at Hogwarts, he had fallen back asleep soon after, only to have a repeat of the same experience. This had continued, night after night, for two months.

Needless to say, the lack of sleep and continued headaches were taking a toll on Percy’s physical and mental state. He did his best to keep it hidden, but his condition was easily spotted by the more sharp-eyed teachers, such as Professor McGonagall, who had sent him straight to Madame Pomfrey after he nearly fell asleep in her class…again.

“When was the last time you had a full nights sleep?” The school nursed asked, narrowing her eyes at him and frowning severely.

“Um…” Percy shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed. He didn’t want to reveal exactly how bad he was getting… “It’s…been a while?” He tried, attempting his usual grin but falling miserably short.

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips. “From the looks of it, it’s been more than ‘a while’,” she said with a disapproving head shake. “You’re going to run yourself into the ground if you keep this up. What’s so important that it would keep you from sleeping?”

“Nothing!” Percy answered truthfully. “I just…haven’t been sleeping well recently. Bad dreams, you know?” He put on his best innocent-kid look.

Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows along with her wand, and a small bottle flew into her hand. “Drink this,” she instructed, handing it to him. “It’s a dreamless drought, so it should help you sleep.”

“Right now?”Percy asked, surprised. “But I have Defense class in ten minutes –”

“I’ll explain your absence to Professor Moody,” Madame Pomfrey interrupted him. “You need sleep, and badly. Bottoms up, Jackson. Now.”

Percy considered protesting more, but one look at Madame Pomfrey’s stern face told him that he arguing would get him nowhere. With a sigh, he tipped his head back and drained the bottle. He had barely finished swallowing when he felt his head begin to cloud with drowsiness. Forgetting all about the bottle in his hand, Percy fell back onto the pillows and remembered no more.

~o~O~o~

“…sure he’s alright? He’s been asleep for a long time…”

A quiet voice penetrated through Percy’s haze of sleep. Forcing his eyes opened, he found the anxious faces of Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Thalia peering at him. Percy pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“Percy!” Ron exclaimed, grinning widely. “You’re alive!”

Percy’s eyes widened as he noticed the angle of the sunlight streaming in through the windows by his bed. “How long was I asleep?” He asked, alarmed.

“The whole day,” Thalia replied. “And night. It’s nearly noon.”

“Noon?!” Percy gaped at her, shocked. “I slept _that long?!”_

“You needed it,” Hermione told him. “You looked ready to fall over at any minute!”

“Yeah mate,” Harry chimed in. “You haven’t had a good night’s sleep since our first night back! How have you even survived this long?”

“Our first night?!” Hermione cried, whipping her head around to face Harry. “But that’s over two months!” She turned her head to face Percy, who was mildly impressed by her neck’s durability. “Why – how – what on earth is wrong with you!” She stammered.

Percy grimaced. “I just…haven’t been sleeping well lately,” he explained lamely.

“That’s an understatement,” Ron muttered.

“Where’s Nico?” Percy asked, eager to change the subject.

“Library,” Harry supplied. “He said he had a lot of studying to do.”

“That reminds me,” Percy groaned. “What did I miss while I was out?”

“We learned about the Imperius Curse in Defense class,” Hermione said. “Moody put us all under the curse to see if we could fight it.”

Ron shuddered. “I wouldn’t’ve minded missing that one.”

“It may be useful someday,” Hermione said defensively.

Percy winced internally. _‘If only you knew, Hermione…’_

“We started on summoning charms,” Hermione continued. “Oh! And a notice was put up this morning about the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang – they’ll be arriving this Friday.”

“Already?” Percy’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t realize…”

“Yes, well, time slips away from you when you’re _sleep deprived to the point of passing out!”_ Madame Pomfrey had crossed the room and was standing with her arms crossed, a stern look on her face. “I assume that you won’t let this happen again, Mr. Jackson?” It sounded more like a demand than a question.

Percy nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at him “In that case, your free to go,” she said with a sigh. “If you need another dreamless drought then come and get one.”

Percy thanked her and then exited with his friends. As they walked down the hallway, Ron and Harry chatted about the arrival of the foreign students, with Hermione occasionally chiming in. Thalia slowed her pace so that she was behind them, and Percy followed suit.

“You okay?” Thalia asked quietly, scanning him up and down as if searching for an injury.

“Fine,” Percy replied, just as softly. “Better then I was, at least.” A thought occurred to Percy, and he glanced back to Thalia. “Is Nico really in the library studying?”

“He is,” Thalia replied slowly, shooting a cautious glance at Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s backs. “But he’s also looking into some…other things.”

Percy frowned. He wasn’t sure what Thalia meant by that, but he knew she couldn’t explain it right away. Forcing himself to be satisfied for the time being, Percy turned his attention to the conversation happening in front of him.

_‘Everything is going to start happening soon…and this time, we_ _will_ _make it right.’_

~o~O~o~

As it turned out, Percy wasn’t able to get his answers until late that night; midnight, to be exact. After all of the near-misses from the previous year, the three demigods had unanimously agreed that they would not discuss anything involving their quest until they were positive that no one could listen in on them. On this particular day, that moment did not arrive until midnight, when the rest of the Gryffindor tower was (finally) sound asleep.

Percy barely gave Nico time to sit down before demanding answers. “What were you _really_ doing in the library?” He asked as Nico settled himself in the chair farthest from the dying fire in the common room.

Nico’s mouth quirked into a small smile. “That’s right, I forgot you were asleep. Get enough beauty rest?”

“Shut up,” Percy muttered, annoyed. “I wouldn’t have slept that long if I had any control over it. Now tell me what you were doing!”

“Nothing really important,” The boy said with a shrug. “Just the usual; keep an eye on Elsie.” Nico paused with a frown. “Which, by the way, is _much_ harder then you would think. That girl notices _everything_ – it’s like she’s suspicious of her own shadow!”

Thalia stiffened in her chair. “You were seen?” She accused, eyes widening.

Nico shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe once,” he mumbled. “But that’s not enough to make her think I’m following her!” He added hastily. “As long as it doesn’t happen again, we should be fine.”

Thalia didn’t look very reassured. “Lay off her for a few days,” she ordered. “Long enough so that she’s not looking for you.”

Percy smirked. “If she does notice you following her around, then you could always say that you’ve got a crush on her.”

Nico glared at Percy, who grinned in response. Thalia rolled her eyes. “Did you learn anything else?” She asked, forcing Nico to break off his death glare.

“I did manage to see the titles of some of the books she was reading,” Nico said. “Though I’m not sure how useful that’ll be.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Percy pointed out. “What were they?”

“‘The Soul and its Mysteries’ was one,” Nico began. “Then there was ‘Soul vs. Mind: How Different Are they?’” Nico paused. “At least, I think that’s what it said. It was kinda difficult to read.”

Percy frowned, furrowing his brow in thought. “So…she’s interested in soul stuff. What do you think that means? Could it have anything to do with Voldemort and his horcruxes?”

Thalia looked worried. “Could be,” she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “But this still doesn’t tell us anything for sure. I mean, she’s only fourteen right now – what she’s interested in right now could have nothing to do with what her plan is in the future.”

The three time-jumpers lapsed into silence as they considered the new information. After several minutes, Thalia spoke again.

“Percy,” she said, raising her head to look him in the eye, “we need to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

“I can think of several things,” Percy muttered.

Thalia glared at him. “You know what I mean!” She snapped. “Something is blocking your dreams, and we need to fix it. Not only is it keeping us from stopping Elsie, it’s wearing you down!”

Percy winced. “Yeah, don’t remind me,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It was tolerable before – annoying, but tolerable – but now I can’t even get an hours rest.”

“Could Elsie be blocking it somehow?” Nico suggested.

“That’s really the only explanation I can think of,” Thalia agreed. “Though doesn’t explain why it’s so much worse here at Hogwarts. Unless she’s here somehow…” Thalia shook her head decisively. “But that’s impossible.”

“What should we do then?” Percy asked helplessly. “I can’t keep going like this – I have to take the dreamless drought, or _something –_ but what if it stops and I miss something important because I wasn’t dreaming?” Percy dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

“You’re right,” Thalia said, her voice tight. “You _can’t_ keep going like this. It’s not physically possible. You need to take the draught.”

“But what if–”

Nico cut Percy off before he could get any further. “She’s right. If you don’t sleep, then you’re no help to anyone. Besides, why would you suddenly be able to dream again when you haven’t been able to all summer?”

Percy grimaced. “Still…” he protested weakly.

“Just take the stupid draught, Percy!” Thalia ordered. “You need to at least be able to think clearly if we’re going to have any hope of fixing all this!”

Percy allowed himself a small smile. “Yes ma’am,” he said mockingly.

Thalia scowled. “Go to sleep, Seaweed Brain,” she muttered, throwing a couch cushion at his face before stalking off in the direction of her dormitory.

Percy’s grin grew. “Right away, Madame,” he called after her.

Thalia growled some sort of threat in response, but she was too far away for Percy to hear it. The smile fading from his face, Percy entered his dorm with Nico. He slept without dreams that night, but not without an undue amount of worry and guilt.

_‘If I miss something…something that could help us put a stop to her…if someone dies because of information that I could have had…’_ Percy could feel his consciousness slipping away. _‘What if it’s my fault…’_

~o~O~o~

The next week at Hogwarts was full of anticipation. Throughout the castle, it seemed as if the students were talking only about the Triwizard Tournament. Who would try to enter, what challenges would be presented, what the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students would be like. Even the teachers seemed to be more on edge as the arrival of the two schools drew nearer. The only one who didn’t seem affected was Edward; who, as usual, declared that he couldn’t care less about ‘crazy wizards and their crazy tournaments’.

Percy, Thalia, and Nico did their best to appear caught up in the excitement of the approaching tournament; but Percy was finding it increasingly difficult to act happy, considering how the tournament would end.

Two days before the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, Percy was in the library when he overheard someone whispering eagerly that he hoped he would be chosen for the tournament. A sideways glance revealed said person to be none other than Cedric Diggory; grinning with anticipation, an excited light in his eyes. Percy felt sick. Abruptly excusing himself, Percy hurried from the library, leaving Harry and Ron to stare after him in confusion.

Percy wanted nothing more than for his whole quest to be over and done with. He was so tired; _so tired_ of sitting by and watching everything unfold without lifting a finger to stop any of it. Until they put a stop to Elsie, he was stuck. He hated it. He hated _so much._ But there was nothing he could do to change it – nothing at all.

**Elsie**

_‘Ah, the soul is like that…but no…but then if it’s like this…yes, yes! All I have to do is – wait…no…no no NO! If the mind isn’t there then – oh! If I could only – but wait, she said that –’_ Elsie let out a frustrated growl before ripping the page from her notebook and throwing it to the floor.

“Why does it have to be so damn complicated!” She cried, jumping to her feet and kicking her desk, causing a precarious stack of books to topple to the floor.

All of the energy left Elsie in a rush, and she fell back into her chair, dropping her head into her arms on the desk. She sat there for several minutes, fighting back desperate tears.

“When did all of this get so complicated,” Elsie whispered. Slowly raising her head, she stared at the wall in front of her. “When – and how – _how_ – did I decide that _this_ is what I wanted?”

No one answered. Elsie took a shuddering breath before dropping her head back onto her arms. _‘I’m sorry, Mathew…but I can’t turn back now.’_


	5. Goblets and Grimaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Edward**

“Come on Brother, it’s only for one night!” Alphonse pleaded, attempting to pacify his older brother. “You know that the Colonel–”

“Since when do I care what that jerk tells me to do?” Edward spat back, crossing his arms and glaring at Al. “Besides, he’d never find out!” Ed’s eyes narrowed. “Unless _you_ tell him, of course.”

A sighing sound echoed from within Al’s armour. “That’s not very ethical of you, Brother.”

Ed waved his hand dismissively. “It’s just a stupid uniform, Al! I haven’t worn one before, so why should I start now?” Edward’s glare hardened. “I can ‘represent my country’ perfectly _fine_ without wearing a bunch of uncomfortable blue cloth!”

Alphonse remained silent, standing in the same position in the middle of the bedroom. Edward did the same, not lessening his harsh look in the slightest. Several seconds ticked by. Edward shifted uncomfortably. Alphonse kept staring. Somewhere nearby, a clock chimed.

“…I’m not wearing it, Al.”

“…”

“There’s nothing you could say to convince me!”

“…”

“I’m _not_ going to wear it!”

~o~O~o~

One hour later, a decidedly unhappy Edward Elric was standing outside the Hogwarts castle along with the rest of the school, awaiting the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. In full uniform.

“Dammit, how the hell did I let Al talk me into this?” Ed grumbled under his breath, rotating his shoulders under the itchy blue cloth. Letting out a small huff, he forced himself to ignore the not-so-discreet stares from the many Hogwarts students.

_‘Really, you’d think that they’ve never seen a military uniform before.’_ Edward stopped, considering. _‘Actually, that might be the case for most of them…do wizards even have a formal army?’_

A cry from the students pulled Edward’s attention back to the present. The cause of the outburst was obvious as a giant carriage, pulled by golden horses, swept over the Hogwarts grounds and landed nearly on top of the students. A boy, obviously a student, hopped from the carriage first before pulling down a step stool to allow the rest of the occupants to disembark. The first to exit the carriage was a woman of the same stature as Hagrid, followed by a dozen or sostudents.

Dumbledore introduced the woman as Madame Maxime, headmistress of Beauxbatons. Edward concluded that either the headmistress had parents with a terrible sense of humor, or she had the worst luck Ed had seen in a while.

After a brief conversation between Dumbledore and Madame Maxime about the care of her horses (which apparently drank whiskey – Ed added that to his mental list of Magical Animal Things to Tell Al), Madame Maxime ushered to her students and they entered the castle.

The students of Hogwarts lapsed into quiet chatter for several seconds, until the lake started swirling and a giant sailing ship rose out of the water. Edward had to look twice to be sure of what he was seeing. Sure magic could accomplish some pretty ridiculous feats, but how in the name of Truth could they travel _submerged in water_ in a ship like _that_ without drowning? Not to mention, wasn’t there a giant squid in that lake or something? Not that Ed cared about the menagerie of creatures that Hogwarts housed.

A plank was lowered to the bank, and the students began to disembark, all bundled in heavy furs and cloaks. The man leading them was set apart by his sleek silver furs and white hair. He greeted Dumbledore warmly, gazing around with a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. The man; who was introduced as Professor Karkaroff; reminded Ed of the many military officers who weaseled their way up the ranks with pretty words and fake smiles. Ed decided that he wasn’t very fond of the Durmstrang Professor.

Professor Karkaroff motioned for one of his students to come forward, saying something about a cold and how he hoped Dumbledore wouldn’t mind. A boy separated himself from the rest of the students and shuffled forward reluctantly. The second the boy came into full view, the quiet mutterings of the waiting Hogwarts students transformed into a near-roar.

Edward frowned and gave the boy a second glance. He didn’t seem to be anything special – he looked the same as the rest of the students; thick black hair, curved nose, and an overall unimpressive face. The students seemed to disagree. As they entered the Great Hall, Ed saw two boys frantically searching for quills, and overheard a girl wondering if maybe she could get a signature in lipstick.

Ed rolled his eyes as he walked towards his seat. Filch had pulled up four extra chairs on either side of Dumbledore, and Ed wondered briefly who was going to occupy the other two; something he would have known if he ever bothered to attend the staff meetings. Two people that Ed had never seen before entered soon after and occupied the seats; a very stiff and formal looking man with graying hair, followed by a much more cheerful man with round features and a mustache.

“Excuse me, young man?” Professor Karkaroff, who was sitting on Dumbledore’s left, interrupted Edward’s observations. “Dumbledore tells me that you are the Alchemy professor?” The man’s eyebrows were raised, clearly showing his skepticism.

“That is me, yes,” Ed replied coldly. He was used to people doubting his abilities because of his  height age, and it annoyed him to no end.

Professor Karkaroff’s eyebrows rose even higher, coming close to merging with his slick white hair. Madame Maxime paused in her conversation with Professor McGonagall and turned to look at Ed, disbelief written all over her face.

“A Professor?” The giant woman questioned. “Zis little boy?”

_Snap_.

_‘Don’t yell don’t yell don’t yell DON’T YELL–’_ Edward realized that he had bent his fork nearly in half. He dropped it onto his plate with a clatter.

“Yes,” he ground out in response to Madame Maxime. “I am the Alchemy professor.”

_‘And I am NOT SHORT, YOU OVERSIZED GIANT.’_

Madame Maxime did not look convinced, but Professor McGonagall quickly distracted her with their previous conversation, shooting a warning look at Edward’s misshaped silverware. Professor Karkaroff cleared his throat, drawing Ed’s attention back to him.

“From your uniform, I assume that you are a state alchemist?” The man questioned. When Ed nodded, his mouth stretched into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You must truly be a strong alchemist to have attained such a rank.” Karkaroff’s voice was of the same smooth quality as every politician Ed had met during his time in the military.

“Don’t be getting any ideas, Karkaroff.”

Edward and Karkaroff both jumped at the unexpected voice. Professor Moody’s flesh eye was fixed on Karkaroff in an intense glare.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, _professor,”_ Moody growled, a threatening edge to his voice. Karkaroff turned away hurriedly.

“Uh…thanks?” Ed said, unsure of how to respond to the situation.

Moody nodded shortly. “Karkaroff isn’t one to be trusted,” he muttered quietly. “Trust me, I’ve had first-hand experience with the man. You’d do best to stay out of his way.” Moody’s lightning blue eye fixed itself onto Ed, and not for the first time he felt a shiver run down his spine. He turned away and tried to focus on the food in front of him.

If Edward was being honest, he still wasn’t sure what to think of Moody. The man was…interesting, to say the least. He was certainly no stranger to battles, which was evident from the scars covering every inch of his face. In Ed’s opinion, scars were more of a testament to how often you failed in a fight rather than how experienced you were – not that he would ever say that out loud, of course.

The rest of the feast passed uneventfully, much to Ed’s relief. All eyes turned to Dumbledore as he stood and began to speak.

“The moment has come,” said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

There was a polite round of applause. The cheerful addition to the staff table gave a slight wave, grinning jovially. The stiff man did not look the least bit inclined to crack a smile.

When the applause had quieted, Dumbledore continued. “Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the champions’ efforts.”

Dumbledore smiled at the students as they seemed to lean forward in anticipation. “That casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch,” he called.

The caretaker emerged from a corner of the hall, carrying a jewel-covered wooden chest. Excited murmurs filled the hall as Filch carefully set the old chest down before Dumbledore. A few students stood on their chairs to get a better view.

“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman,” said Dumbledore, “and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess – their daring – their powers of deduction – and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

The students’ whispering ceased, and silence once again dominated the hall. Edward honestly thought it was ridiculous that there was so much fuss over this tournament – it was even bigger than their stupid flying sport tournaments, and that was saying something.

“As you know,” Dumbledore continued, calmly, “three champions compete in the Tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector…the Goblet of Fire.”

Dumbledore pulled his wand from his robes and tapped the chest three times. The lid opened slowly, hinges creaking. Dumbledore reached inside and carefully lifted out the object inside; a large, wooden goblet. The goblet itself was unimpressive – it was the blue flames shooting from the rim that made it a sight to see.

Edward didn’t really care about the fire; he was contemplating the idiocy of having an inanimate object somehow select ‘champions’ for this tournament. He supposed it was about the same as having a _hat_ decide where to place students, but at least the hat could talk – though, that raised questions that Ed didn’t even want to consider.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had closed the casket and placed the goblet on top, where it was visible to the entire hall.

The headmaster turned to address the students once more. “Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment, and drop it into the Goblet,” said Dumbledore. “Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, on Halloween, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.”

_‘Those who it has judged most worthy?’_ Ed thought, barely surprising a disbelieving scoff. _‘How does it decide who’s most worthy by reading their name off of a piece of paper? Not to mention the fact that it’s a freakin’_ ** _cup._** _’_

“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation,” Dumbledore continued, “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”

A few disappointed protests came from the students, but they were soon silenced.

“Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly,” Dumbledore said gravely. “Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract.”

_‘Screw magic,’_ Ed decided. _‘I’m done trying to figure out how it works. You think you have it figured out, then BAM. Magic, judgmental cups.’_

“There can be no change of heart once you have become champion,” Dumbledore was saying. “Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all.”

The hall slowly began to clear, and Ed gladly stood to leave. The night had not been the most enjoyable one, and he was more than ready to be back in his room with Alphonse, where things made sense.

~o~O~o~

The next day was Saturday, which meant no classes; something Ed was eternally grateful for. He usually spent the entire weekend in the library, using his limited free time to research. With Al’s help, he hoped to make much more progress than last year. Unfortunately, so far they had found nothing useful.

“Maybe we’ll find something today,” Al said hopefully as he and Ed carried their books to their usual table. “Some of these books look really promising…” The younger Elric picked up the first book from his stack and began flipping through it.

Ed spread out his notes from the previous weeks and opened his book. “Yeah, maybe we will,” he muttered.

Two students walked by, deep in conversation. Ed only caught the tail end of their conversation, but it was enough.

“…so I’d want to dedicate it to her, you know? I helped Susan a lot with homework, and we were pretty close, so when she died…”

_Stabbed through the heart – blood, so much blood – too late, couldn’t save her – your fault – murdered – your fault –_

“Brother?”

Edward blinked, and all of his thoughts left his head in a rush, leaving him with a vague feeling that something was wrong…Ed blinked again, and even the feeling was gone.

“Huh? Uh…sorry, Al, I blanked out for a second.”

Al made a sighing sound. “You really need to get more sleep,” he said, disapproval evident in both his tone and his composure.

Ed laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, Al, I know, but it’s not that bad, really!”

Al shook his head. “Let’s just get started,” he said.

Within five minutes, the two boys were lost in their studies, and Ed easily dismissed the vague feeling that had disrupted his thoughts mere minutes before. After all, it was only a feeling; and what do feelings prove, really?


	6. Preparation and Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

  

**Harry**

Harry decided that if he could go through one year at Hogwarts without getting caught up in something life-threatening, then he would be happy. One year, that was all he wanted. _One._ Unfortunately, fate seemed to have decided that he would never be off the hook. As he watched Ron storm out of the common room without saying a word to him, Harry decided that life must hate him.

“I know how you feel,” Percy said, as if he knew exactly what was going through Harry’s head. “I’ve been shoved into plenty of unwanted, dangerous situations. It sucks.”

“Have you had your best friend hate you because of it?” Harry asked, clenching his fists.

“Well…no,” Percy admitted. “But hey, I’m sure Ron will come to his senses eventually!” The boy grinned and he threw an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry frowned as he and Percy exited the common room and began walking towards the Great Hall for breakfast. “I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered.

Percy’s grin faded and his expression became serious. “Listen,” he began, turning his head and meeting Harry’s eyes. “You and Ron have been friends for what – three years now? Think about all that you guys have been through in that time! Think about all you went through even just last year! You think after all that, you two are going to stop being friends because of something as ridiculous as this?” Percy shook his head firmly. “You’ll get through it, you’ll see.”

By this time, the two had arrived at the Great Hall. Thalia spotted them and waved, motioning to where she and Nico were sitting.

“Hermione’s trying to talk some sense into Ron,” Thalia said as they sat down, jerking her head towards Ron and Hermione, who were sitting at the far end of the table.

Harry slumped down in his seat. “Good luck with that,” he muttered bitterly.

“You’ve written to Snuffles, right Harry?” Percy asked, obviously eager to change the subject.

Harry shook his head firmly. “I don’t need to worry him about this. If I tell him then he’s sure to do something crazy.”

Nico gave a long sigh. “Harry,” he began, as if speaking to a small child. “He’s going to find out whether you want him to or not. The real question is, do you want him to find out from you, or from the paper?”

Harry frowned. “I guess I didn’t think of that,” he muttered, dragging his fork across his plate.

“So, write to him today,” Thalia pressed.

“Alright, alright,” Harry said. “I’ll have to use one of the school owls though; he told me not to use Hedwig again.”

The rest of breakfast passed silently; until Nico rose to leave. Harry almost didn’t notice him standing; the boy was extremely good at making his movements go unnoticed.

“Where are you off to?” Harry asked, stopping Nico in his tracks.

“Library,” Nico replied. “I have some studying to get done.”

“Again?” Harry’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Keep this up and you’ll beat Hermione! What is it that you’re spending so much time on?”

“I…” Nico hesitated. “Well – I was doing research on the tournament. Past challenges, that sort of thing – I thought it might help to at least have some information, you know?”

“Oh,” Harry said, surprised. “I didn’t think of that. I should come with you – maybe we’ll find something useful.” Grabbing the last bite of his toast, Harry stood as well.

“Yeah…good idea,” Nico said. It may have been Harry’s imagination, but Nico seemed decidedly unenthusiastic about Harry coming along. Harry shrugged it off as the two trudged to the library.

“So…where should we start looking?” Harry asked. “The history section?”

Suddenly Nico stopped in his tracks, causing Harry to nearly run into him.

“Harry!” Nico exclaimed, whirling around to face him with an excited gleam in his eyes. “You need to prepare for the tournament!” 

“Er…yes, I know that,” Harry said, confused. “That’s why we’re here, remember?”

“No, I mean you need to prepare _physically,”_ Nico explained. “Not just with magic!”

“Yeah, probably,” Harry agreed, still confused. “But where –” Harry froze. “No.”

Nico grinned. “Now who do we know who could help you with that?”

“No,” Harry repeated. “Definitely not.”

“C’mon Harry,” Nico said. “You know it’s a good idea! Who else is going to –”

“No!” Harry cut him off. “He pointed a _spear_ at Seamus’ _face!_ No way am I asking him to teach me!”

“Don’t you want to survive the tournament?” Nico shot back. “You’re probably going to face a lot worse than spears!”

“Don’t you remember the _detention_ he gave us?” Harry protested. “I’m not going to voluntarily sign up for more of that!”

“You know it’ll help you,” Nico hissed. “He’s sitting right over there, just ask!”

Harry glared at Nico. “What, are you trying to get me killed before the tournament even starts? Everybody knows not to interrupt him when he’s studying with his brother!”

Nico smirked. “Sound’s to me like you’re just looking for excuses.”

“But –”

“Alphonse’ll make sure he doesn’t kill you,” Nico said, rolling his eyes. “Besides, we’re in a library, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Harry very much wanted to reply that when it came to him, it was better not to ask the question. The look on Nico’s face told him that he wouldn’t win this argument. The pale boy nudged Harry forward, giving him what was probably supposed to be an encouraging smile, but looked more like an anticipatory smirk. Swallowing hard, Harry approached Edward and Alphonse’s table.

“Excuse me, Ed?” Harry began.

Alphonse looked up from his papers. “Oh, hello Harry!” He greeted. “Did you need something?”

No matter how many times he heard it, Al’s young, accented voice always confused Harry. He brushed the oddness aside. “Yeah, I wanted to ask Ed something, if that’s alright…” he trailed off, secretly hoping that Alphonse would ask him to come back later, or maybe even not at all. Unfortunately for him, Alphonse’s wouldn’t dream of turning someone down.

“Brother!” Al nudged Ed with an armored elbow, causing Ed to look up in surprise. “Harry wanted to ask you something,” Al said.

Ed frowned in obvious annoyance, and Harry considered the benefits of saying ‘never mind’ and leaving. Of course, then Ed might be even more annoyed…

“What is it?” Edward asked, glaring at Harry from behind his book.

“Brother,” Al admonished. “Be polite! You are supposed to be a teacher!”

“Well?” Ed asked, ignoring his brother.

“Yeah, I was wondering –” Harry hesitated briefly before plunging forward. “I’ve been thinking, and I decided that it would probably be good to have some – well, physical training to help in the tournament, and I was wondering if you could help –”

“Nope, sorry,” Edward interrupted, not sounding very sorry at all. “I do not have time to do any more teaching then I already am.” With that, the young professor buried his nose in his book.

“Wait, Brother,” Al said before Harry could walk away. “This is your whole job, right? You can take some time off to help him!”

Ed groaned and tore his eyes from his book. “I am supposed to be teaching _alchemy,_ not training people for this stupid tournament!”

Alphonse shifted, his armour creaking as he leaned almost imperceptibly closer to Edward. “Brother,” he said again, his voice dropping slightly. “Remember what Colonel Mustang said?”

Edward clenched his jaw and scowled at his younger brother. A battle of wills seemed to take place between the two siblings, with Al coming out on top. Ed slammed his book shut and stood from the table with an indignant huff.

“Fine,” he said grudgingly. “I will help you. But do not expect me to go easy on you.” Ed turned on his heel, causing his red coat to flare out behind him. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder. “Might as well start now.”

Startled, Harry sent a quick ‘thank-you’ to Alphonse before hurrying after the blond. Al laughed and waved, and Harry almost missed what he muttered under his breath next: “You will not be thanking me for long…”

~o~O~o~

Ten minutes later, Harry and Edward were standing in the middle of the empty quidditch  pitch, which Edward had decided ‘would do nicely’. Harry wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he knew he would find out soon; for better or for worse.

“The first thing you need to do is get in shape,” Edward declared, facing Harry with his arms crossed. “You are ridiculously flabby.”

Harry blinked. He had expected this, but still… “Well – how do you want me to fix that?” He asked, though he already knew and dreaded the answer.

Edward scoffed. “Exercise,” he replied. “I know that is a foreign concept for you wizards, but give it a try.” Ed’s scowl turned into a smirk. “Of course, you don’t need me for that, so right now…”

As soon as the smirk appeared on Ed’s face, Harry was on guard. He knew that look – it was the same look that Edward had had right before he challenged every failed student to a spear-on-wand duel, and before he transmuted a spike next to a sleeping student’s head – the look that meant ‘start running’. Sure enough, Edward was lunging towards Harry faster then he could blink, giving Harry barely enough time to dive to the side, landing painfully on the grass.

“Lesson number one,” Ed said as Harry stumbled to his feet. “Always be on your guard.”

“Constant – vigilance?” Harry asked, wincing.

“Yes, that,” Edward agreed. Then he was lunging again.

Harry, being somewhat prepared, managed to dodge without falling flat. The next blow, however, sent him tumbling to the ground.

“Never get on the ground!” Ed ordered, as if Harry had _chosen_ to lay in the dirt, rather than being forcibly shoved there. “It gives your opponent the advantage, and then you have to take the time to get back up again!”

The instant Harry was back on his feet, Ed was on him like a cat on a mouse, and Harry was on the ground just as fast. Ed shook his head in disapproval as Harry pulled himself to his feet again.

“If you have to hit the ground, then hit the ground _right,_ ” he said. “Instead of flopping face-first into the ground, use your momentum to roll and land on your feet again. Like this.”

Ed dove forward and rolled as he hit the ground, coming up behind Harry, at the perfect angle to aim a kick at Harry’s back. Harry stumbled forward just in time, whirling around to face the blond.

“Don’t you think there’s a better way to learn this?” Harry gasped as he dodged another of Ed’s strikes.

“Experience is the best teacher,” Ed quipped, throwing another kick towards Harry’s head. “Be glad I have not brought out any knives yet.”

Harry decided not to dwell much on the fact that Edward had said ‘yet’ in reference to bringing out knives. He attempted to duplicate Edward’s rolling motion as he dove, but ended up landing on his shoulder at an angle that he was sure was not healthy. This time, Edward didn’t give Harry time to recover. Harry was barely on his feet before another fist was aimed at his gut.

Deciding to try a different strategy that would (hopefully) not end with him on the ground, Harry pulled his knee up to block the fist. It occurred to him too late that Edward might have been using his metal hand.

A sickening _crack_ was the last thing he heard before he was on the ground, again, with an unbearable pain spreading throughout his left leg. Through the haze of pain, he heard Edward say a few words that a professor most definitely should _not_ be saying, before dropping down next to him.

“Sorry, thought you were going to dodge again or I would not have done that –” Ed cut himself off, perhaps realizing that apologies were not helping the situation. “Um…I guess I will have to carry you…hold still, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” Harry gasped, barely forcing the words out before a wave of nausea overtook him.

Edward was obviously trying to be very gentle as he slid his arms underneath his leg, but despite his best efforts, metal limbs were not made for finesse. The last thing Harry remembered before passing out was Ed muttering something rather unflattering about his automail.

~o~O~o~

When Harry awoke, the first thing he registered was that he was in the hospital wing, which came as no surprise to him. He cracked his eyes open, blearily taking in the familiar white surroundings. A blur of red and gold to his left drew his attention to Edward, who was sitting next to his bed, accompanied by Hermione and Percy.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said, worry evident in her tone. “You’re awake! How’s your leg?”

Harry shook his head, trying to clear the buzzing from his ears. Now that he was fully awake, he noticed the dull, throbbing, ache in his leg, which was wrapped thoroughly in bandages.

“It’s not that bad,” Harry told them. “Not as bad as when it first happened, that’s for sure.”

Edward winced. “Yes, sorry about that…I’m used to sparring with Al, and, well…” he shook his head. “I am very sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s not that bad, really,” Harry assured him. “It won’t take long to heal.”

“It’s still a broken leg,” Percy pointed out. “That’s pretty bad.”

Madame Pomfrey approached the bed before Harry had the chance to respond. “Mr. Potter,” she began, fixing him with a severe gaze. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this anymore, but I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t make it a habit of ending up here.”

Pressing her lips together in a thin line, Madame Pomfrey turned to face Edward, her gaze growing even harsher. “And you, _Professor Elric,_ ” she began, glaring down at the alchemist. “I have had _four_ students come here for treatment because of _you!_ I don’t know what it is that you’re teaching them, but I would advise you to _revise your teaching plan._ ”

Edward shrunk under the nurse’s glare. “Yes ma’am…it…probably won’t happen again.”

“Probably?” Madame Pomfrey asked, her tone dangerous.

Ed bristled slightly. “Well I can’t be responsible for sheer stupidity, can I?! It’s not _always_ my fault!”

Madame Pomfrey gave a ‘hmph’ of disapproval and turned back to Harry. “You’ll stay here tonight,” she informed him. “Your leg will be healed by tomorrow morning. Until then, you’re not to move from that bed.” After receiving Harry’s repeated assurance that he would stay put, Madame Pomfrey retreated into her office.

Edward stood and stretched his arms above his head. “I will leave now,” he said. “Alphonse is waiting.” Turning to Harry, the familiar smirk found its way to his face. “Same time tomorrow then?”

Somehow, Harry forced himself to nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know why, but I’ve had such bad writers’ block with these last few chapters. Hopefully it’ll leave soon, and I can start updating semi-frequently. Until then, maybe drop a comment so I have some sense of purpose and motivation?


	7. Clashes and Conviction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

* * *

 

**Percy**

Percy looked up from his homework as Harry stumbled into the common room. The bedraggled wizard staggered over to where Percy and the others were sitting and collapsed into a chair with a groan.

“How was your private lesson?” Percy asked, smirking.

Harry cracked his eyes open enough to glare at Percy, then shifted his glare to Nico, who was sitting on the floor. “This is all your fault,” he muttered.

Nico didn’t even bother looking up from his parchment. “I’m helping you,” he said absently as he dipped his quill into the inkwell next to him. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Well,” Hermione began calmly, “at least you don’t have any broken bones this time.”

Harry groaned again. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I still ache all over. Do you know what he did today?”

No one answered. Nico raised his eyebrows. “Do tell,” he prompted.

Harry sat up in his chair, a wild look in his eyes. “He threw a _knife_ at my _head._ Because I ‘didn’t get up fast enough’. My _head!”_

Hermione stopped petting Crookshanks and stared at Harry, eyes wide. “He _what?”_ She cried, obviously shocked.

“Well,” Percy began. “It obviously didn’t hit you, seeing as you’re sitting right here, perfectly fine.”

“It was right next to my face!” Harry countered. “A little to the right and I wouldn’t have a nose anymore!”

“But – but that could have _killed_ you!” Hermione tightened her grip on her cat, causing the animal to yowl in discomfort and leap from her lap. Hermione didn’t seem to notice. “He – he could have killed you,” she repeated numbly.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Harry grumbled. “First Malfoy’s stupid badges, then the stupid wand weighing, _then_ Rita Skeeter’s ‘interview’, _THEN_ I get knives thrown at my head – what else could go wrong today?!”

“I’m sure he wasn’t actually trying to hurt you,” Nico said, attempting to pacify Harry. “Besides, you’re probably going to have way worse stuff thrown at you in the tournament.”

“Literally and figuratively,” Percy added brightly. Harry groaned for a third time.

Hermione had finally recovered from her initial shock. “Someone needs to tell him to be more careful,” she said decidedly. “You should talk to him, Harry.”

Harry shook his head frantically. “No way am I going to tell him that! Last time I asked if there was a better way to learn, my leg got broken!”

Hermione hesitated. “Percy,” she finally said. “You should go talk to him.”

Percy dropped his quill. “Me?” He protested. “Why _me?_ Why not you?”

“Because you’ve learned combat before,” Hermione explained patiently. “You can tell him that there are better ways to teach something like that.”

“But that’s – that’s completely different!” Percy sputtered, shaking his head.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Nico piped up. Percy shot him a wounded look. Nico smiled innocently in return.

Hermione nodded. “Good. You’ll talk to him then.”

Percy huffed. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Tomorrow.”

The door to the common room swung open, and a very angry looking Thalia entered, something clenched tightly in her fist. Without saying anything, Thalia marched directly to the fire and threw whatever she had been holding into the flames. Harry, Hermione, Nico, and Percy stared at her, unsure of what to say. Hermione was the first to speak.

“That wasn’t something important again, was it?” She asked cautiously.

“Hardly,” Thalia spat. “It was a _love letter._ ”

Nico snorted, then broke into an abrupt coughing fit in an obvious (and failed) attempt to cover his laughter. Thalia glared down at him, then reached out her foot and kicked over his inkwell, causing the black liquid to spill out across Nico’s nearly-completed homework.

_“Thalia!”_ Nico cried, aghast. “That was almost _finished!”_

Thalia stepped over his parchment and seated herself in the chair next to Harry. “Whoops,” she said nonchalantly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand. “Honestly,” she said as she cleared the spilled ink off of Nico’s homework. “Both of you are acting ridiculous.”

“So, who’s trying their luck with you this time?” Percy asked, after carefully positioning his inkwell a safe distance away from Thalia.

“I don’t know, it was anonymous,” Thalia replied. “Too bad,” she muttered with a scowl. “I’d love to know who it was so I could give them a _really_ straight answer.”

Hermione pursed her lips together. “I think that’s exactly why it _wasn’t_ signed,” she pointed out.

Thalia crossed her arms. “Isn’t your stupid bet over, Nico?” She asked, turning her glare back to the boy on the floor, who wrapped a protective hand around his inkwell. “I thought it was a one-year thing!”

“Nope,” Nico answered, unable to keep the grin from his face. “It’ll keep going for as long as we’re here. Unless you can convince Dean to cut it short, of course.”

Thalia’s scowl deepened. “I’ll convince him alright,” she promised. “One way or another…”

Harry eyed Thalia’s clenched fist nervously. “Er…Thalia, you might want to think about this first,” he advised.

“You’re right,” Thalia conceded, unclenching her fists. “I don’t want to do anything incriminating.” A smirk appeared on Thalia’s face. “Maybe I could tell Edward that Dean has been mocking his height for the whole year. That’d give me results.”

Harry grimaced. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant…”

~o~O~o~

The following morning found Percy in the library, scanning the tables for signs of Edward. Hermione had wasted no time in reminding Percy of his promise to talk to the alchemy professor; pushing Percy towards the library as soon as they had finished breakfast. Percy easily spotted the hulking suit of armour that was Alphonse Elric, but he noted with a frown that Edward was not in his usual place beside his brother.

Percy approached the table, thinking that perhaps the older brother was hidden behind Al’s armour; a feat that would be easy to accomplish, given his…less than large stature. Upon reaching the table, Percy found that his assumption was false.

“Hey, Alphonse!” Percy tapped the armoured shoulder “Do you know where your brother is?”

Alphonse looked up from his book. “Oh, Brother is in his classroom; he’s grading homework.”

“Really?” Percy raised his eyebrows. “He’s doing that on a _Saturday?_ I thought he always did it the night before class?”

Alphonse laughed. “He usually does. I made him go work on it.”

Percy grinned. “I see. D’you think he’d mind if I interrupted for a minute?”

“He would probably welcome the distraction,” Alphonse said with a sigh. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Percy said, waving over his shoulder as he exited the library.

_‘I still don’t know what I’m going to say,’_ Percy thought as he walked down the hallway towards the classroom. _‘How am I supposed to tell him to go easier on Harry without making it sound like Harry is just whining?’_ Percy shook his head. _‘I’ll figure it out.’_

Percy stopped in front of the closed classroom door and knocked. A _thump_ came from behind the door, followed by muffled cursing, and then a call of ‘one minute!’ Several seconds later, the door swung open, revealing a rather disheveled Edward. Upon seeing Percy, Ed relaxed, leaning against the doorframe.

“Sorry about that,” Ed muttered, running a hand over his hair, which was coming undone from the usual braid. “I thought you might have been Alphonse.”

Percy smirked. “If you were trying to hide the fact that you were asleep two minutes ago, then you didn’t succeed.”

Edward scowled. “Did you want something?” He grumbled, crossing his arms.

Percy’s smirk disappeared. “Right…I actually wanted to talk to you about your…lessons…with Harry.”

Ed raised his eyebrows. “What about them?”

“Well…” Percy rubbed the back of his head. “I guess you could say that we – well, Hermione mostly – but all of us – were wondering if there was a way to teach Harry how to fight that didn’t involve near-decapitation.”

Ed tilted his head at Percy. “That is how I learned,” he replied simply.

“Well…yeah,” Percy said. “But still – I think maybe you should tone it down a little for Harry.”

“You think he can not handle it?” Edward asked. “He asked me to help him, so I am. If he does not like it, then he should quit.”

“Couldn’t you just compromise?” Percy asked, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“What do you want me to change?” Edward challenged, raising his voice.

“Stop throwing knives at his head, for one,” Percy countered, feeling his temper rise.

“I know what I’m doing,” Ed snapped, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not stupid!”

“Well, you could have fooled me!” Percy shot back, green eyes sparking.

Edward clenched his jaw and glared at Percy. “You of all people should know that experience is the best way to prepare for a dangerous situation,” he hissed.

Percy opened his mouth to retaliate, but then stopped. “What do you mean ‘you of all people’?” He asked slowly.

Edward blinked, obviously surprised. “I have seen you fight,” he replied after a short pause. “You have obviously have been in battles, and came out alive.”

Percy narrowed his eyes. Something about the way Edward had said that didn’t sit right with him. It was almost as if he _knew w_ hat Percy had been through – but that was impossible…

“Is that all you needed?”

Ed’s harsh voice pulled Percy back to reality. “Yeah,” he replied hesitantly. Edward made to close the door, but Percy grabbed the door before it could fully shut. “Just…try and go a little easier on him,” Percy said quietly. “He hasn’t seen what you or I have yet.”

Ed’s face softened. “That’s exactly why I can’t,” he replied grimly. “Because he may see it eventually. And when he does, he needs to be prepared.”

~o~O~o~

Hermione looked up from her book as soon as Percy walked into the common room. “How did it go?” She asked immediately. “Good?”

Harry stopped working on his homework and looked up with a hopeful expression. Thalia, Nico, and Ron stopped working as well and looked to Percy.

“Um…” Percy began, walking over to the group. “Define _good.”_

Harry dropped his head with a sigh. “Not good, then?” He asked dejectedly.

“Well…” Percy scratched the back of his head. “He might be…a little bit more careful tonight…maybe?”

“That doesn’t sound very promising,” Ron commented.

“I don’t think you should be complaining.”

Percy jumped at the voice and turned to see that Ginny had come up behind him undetected.

“Easy for you to say,” Harry protested. “You don’t know what he’s doing!”

“I would if I had any say in it,” Ginny replied fiercely. “I asked him to teach me, but he wouldn’t do it!”

“You did?” Thalia asked, sounding impressed. “What for?”

Ginny tossed her flaming hair over one shoulder. “Who knows when it might come in handy,” she replied. “Which is what I _told_ Edward, but he didn’t seem to care.” Ginny wrinkled her nose and frowned.

“Well…” Nico ventured, “He can’t exactly teach everyone, can her? I mean, he has other things to do.”

Ginny huffed angrily. “Two people isn’t that many! It wouldn’t take very much of his time!”

“Maybe you should ask again,” Hermione suggested. “He might change his mind.” Hermione shook her head. “I don’t why you’d _want_ him to teach you though – it seems very dangerous.”

“I _have_ asked him again,” Ginny said. “I ask him at the end of every alchemy class, and he always says no!”

“You could come with me tonight,” Harry offered. “Then you can at least watch if he says no again.”

Ginny’s whole face lit up. “Really?” She asked eagerly. “Brilliant! I’ll be there!”

Percy made a mental note to never get on Ginny’s bad side. He had heard the stories of her famous hexes, and he didn’t want to imagine what would happen if the redhead added martial arts to her arsenal.

As the rest of the day passed, Percy couldn’t shake the feeling that something about his conversation with Edward had felt…off. He couldn’t stop thinking that maybe the blond knew more then he was letting on, and that thought worried Percy. The three demigods had not yet asked Edward if he knew the ‘Nicole Elric’ who had appeared in Percy’s dream; they had been wary of doing anything even the slightest bit suspicious. Now, Percy was even more reluctant to have a prolonged conversation with the alchemist.

It wasn’t until late that evening, when the rest of the Gryffindor tower was asleep, that Percy was able to share his suspicions with Thalia and Nico. Thalia, as expected, didn’t take the news well.

“You think he knows?” Thalia hissed angrily, eyes wide. “How could he? That’s impossible! Unless he’s been working with Elsie from the start – but that can’t be –”

“You’re probably just being paranoid,” Nico said uneasily.

“Maybe,” Percy said, unconvinced. “But the way he said it…even if he doesn’t know exactly what we are, I’m sure he at least knows that there’s something…off about us.”

“But how much does he actually know,” Thalia muttered. “And how are we going to get information from him without seeming even more suspicious?” Thalia rose to her feet and began pacing back and forth in front of the dying fire.

Percy shrugged helplessly. “Maybe we should just ask him?” He suggested.

Thalia whipped around to glare at him. “Don’t be ridiculous!” She cried. “We can’t confront him about it! What if he _is_ working with Elsie? Maybe he’s connected with this ‘Nicole’ and they’re all working together!” Thalia ran both hands through her hair and groaned in frustration. “What are we going to do now?”

“It could be nothing,” Percy said, attempting to soothe Thalia. “Like Nico said, I could just be paranoid.”

Thalia shook her head. “We can’t afford to take chances,” she said grimly. “We have to know for sure.” After a second of silence, Thalia snapped her fingers. “If we could get some veritaserum somehow –”

“Wait.” Nico held up his hands, stopping Thalia mid-sentence. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Well, what do _you_ suggest?” Thalia asked, glaring at Nico.

Nico fidgeted. “Well…” he began hesitantly. “There’s something I need to tell you guys.”

Percy frowned. Nico was acting weird, even by his standards. “What is it?” Percy asked slowly.

Nico hesitated. “You know that feeling I had at the beginning of last year?”

“Spit it out already, Death Breath!” Thalia snapped.

Nico sighed. “I asked Edward about it,” he admitted.

Thalia narrowed her eyes. “What does that have to do with this?” She asked suspiciously.

Nico seemed to be melting into the shadows even more than usual. “We agreed on an…equivalent exchange of sorts.”

“What kind of exchange?” Thalia’s voice was dangerous.

Nico grimaced. “He told me what was causing that feeling, and I…well, I told him… _why_ I could feel it.”

Thalia froze. Percy suspected that it would take a battle axe to cut the tension in the room. Finally, Percy spoke.

“You _didn’t.”_

“It was the right call,” Nico replied immediately. “He hasn’t told anyone, has he?”

“Nico, how could you do that?” Thalia hissed. “We can’t go around telling everyone that we’re _demigods!_ I thought you _knew_ that!”

“I _do_ know that!” Nico shot back. “I told you, it was the right call!”

“But you didn’t tell us!” Percy reminded him. “We didn’t tell Harry and the others until we had _all_ agreed!”

“I didn’t have time to ask you about it!” Nico said, throwing his arms up. “I had to make a decision, so I did!”

“And you didn’t think that _maybe_ you should tell us about it _after_ it happened?” Thalia growled through clenched teeth.

“There wasn’t any reason to,” Nico said steadily.

“Wasn’t any reason to?” Percy cried. “We’re a team! We’re supposed to tell each other _everything!_ Especially something like _this!”_

Nico opened his mouth to respond, but Thalia cut him off before he could speak. “This quest is hard enough as it is,” she snarled. “If we can’t even trust each other, then who knows what could go wrong! Do you want to cause even more deaths?”

Nico didn’t say anything. Thalia continued glaring. After several seconds of silence, Percy spoke.

“Thalia is right,” he said quietly. “We have to trust each other, and that means telling each other _everything._ That’s the only way we’ll be able to stop Elsie and get back home.” Percy finished speaking, and there was silence again.

“Alright,” Nico whispered, breaking the silence. “I get it. Trust me, I won’t keep anything else from you.”

Thalia nodded. “That goes for all of us,” she confirmed. Putting her hand out in front of her, Thalia made eye contact with Percy and Nico. “From now on, no secrets. Agreed?”

Nico placed his hand on top of Thalia’s with a firm nod.

Percy reached out his hand and grasped the other two. “Agreed.”

On that night, with the fire slowly dying beside them, while the rest of the castle slept, the three friends made their solemn promise. Looking into each other’s eyes; black, green, and blue; they forged a bond of trust that would see them through even the darkest of times yet to come.

|

o

|

O

|

o

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_The trust between humans is such a fragile thing; carefully crafted, easily lost. To gain the trust of another is a sacred thing. Once that trust is broken, it can never be rebuilt._

_Never._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that things are starting to pick up, the chapters will (hopefully) be easier to write. I’m so excited, guys! Side note: I’ve been revising the early chapters of Myths, Magic, and Alchemy. Man…I was not a good writer back then…how did you guys stand it? I’m glad you did, though! I’ll be publishing the revised chapters soon, so keep an eye out! Then you can reread MMA without cringing…hehe…Any-who, please leave a comment and tell me what you think of the chapter. They are my lifeblood.


	8. Compromises and Carelessness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Edward**

“Duck right!” Ed called, throwing a punch with his ( _left)_ arm.

Harry, like the unpracticed fighter that he was, _tried_ to duck right but ended up falling flat on his face. Again. Edward held back a sigh and waited for the boy to pull himself up.

“That was…better,” Edward decided. “Not good, but better.”

“Really?” Harry asked gloomily. “It sure doesn’t _feel_ better,” he said, rubbing his shoulder. “The first task is _tomorrow_ and I’ve barely learned anything, other than how to get up quicker!”

“Maybe you should take a break.”

Ed didn’t bother holding back a sigh as he turned to the red-haired girl sitting nearby. “You are only saying that because you want me to teach _you_ instead.”

Ginny jumped to her feet, eyes sparking. “And why shouldn’t you? You’re always saying that we should ‘train the body’, so why won’t you help me?”

Ed grimaced. “That is different,” he hedged. “I am only helping him because –”

“Sounds to me like you’re making excuses,” Ginny shot back, glaring at him defiantly. “I want these lessons even more than Harry does; and even if he’s the one who needs them the most right now, who’s to say I won’t need to fight eventually?”

Ed sighed again. “I do not have time to teach everyone who asks.”

Ginny scoffed. “You really think anyone else is going to ask? You’re just trying to get out of teaching me!”

Ed scowled. This girl was really starting to grate on his nerves. “I have much better things I could be doing with my time than teaching you to fight. Besides, Madame Pomfrey would not be pleased if you got hurt.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes, fuming silently. Harry was still standing awkwardly between them, glancing back and forth between the two. Ginny spoke again.

“It’s because I’m a girl, isn’t it?” She said. “You won’t teach me because I’m a girl.”

“What?! No!” Ed protested. “Believe me, I have no problem with fighting a girl, but like I said –”

“Then prove it,” Ginny challenged, stepping closer. Edward tried very hard to ignore the fact that they were the same height.

“No.” Ed crossed his arms and straightened up. “I have no reason to teach you.”

“Do you think I can’t handle it?” Ginny asked. “Because I can. You’re already teaching Harry, one more person wouldn’t be too much trouble!”

“No!” Edward said emphatically. “I will not change my mind.”

Ginny pressed her lips together and glared. Then, slowly, a smirk settled across her face. Ed eyed her warily.

“What if I give you something you want?” She said. “You know. Equivalent exchange.”

“That depends on what you are offering,” Ed said, narrowing his eyes.

Ginny’s smirk grew. “Your first-year classes need a lot of help, right?” She said. “I’m sure you spend a lot of time grading their homework, and I’ve seen them bothering you in the library pretty much every day.”

“Yes…” Edward said cautiously. “And?”

Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You know that I’m one of the better students in your class. I could definitely handle grading the homework that you’re giving them, and I could give them extra help when they ask you. That would give you more time for studying…enough to balance out the time that you would spend teaching me.”

Ed narrowed his eyes, considering. It was true, the new first-years were annoyingly time-consuming…

“Er…” Harry began, speaking for the first time. “I’m not sure that grading homework for a teacher is allowed, Ginny.”

Ginny shrugged. “As long as no one finds out, who cares?” She turned to Ed. “Well?”

“Fine,” Ed said at last. “But first I have to see that you actually _can_ grade the homework correctly. I will teach you for one week, and also double-check the homework you grade, and if you make any mistakes, then no more lessons.”

“Deal!” Ginny said, beaming. “I’ll come see you in your classroom tomorrow for the homework.”

“Aren’t the students going to notice that your handwriting is different from Ed’s?” Harry pointed out. “No offense, Ed, but your handwriting is very…distinctive.”

Ed glared at him, but Ginny spoke before he could defend himself.

“I know a few spells,” she said, grinning slyly. “There’s one for copying handwriting; very useful.”

Ed nodded, grinning. “Perfect. I will see you tomorrow then. Now you two should go inside; it is almost curfew.”

With that, Harry and Ginny turned to trudge up to the castle, leaving Edward alone in the quidditch pitch. Well, not quite alone.

“You can come out now,” Edward called.

A _thump_ sounded in the lower stands, and three figures stood, barely distinguishable in the shadows. Nico hopped over a bench to land on the grass, followed by Percy and Thalia.

“I assume you have a very good reason for hiding behind benches ten minutes before curfew?” Edward asked, raising an eyebrow at the group.

“We do, actually,” Thalia said, raising her chin to glare defiantly down at him. Ed glared back, but it wasn’t nearly as intimidating, considering he was glaring _up._

“Calm down Thalia,” Percy said. “We’re not here to attack anyone.”

“Why are you here then?” Ed asked cautiously, examining the three of them.

Nico was expressionless as always, providing no information. Thalia was disgruntled, which was not unusual for her. Percy, despite his words, was warily appraising Ed, as if he was mentally preparing to fight him if need be. Thalia spoke first.

“We know that Nico told you about us,” she said.

Edward immediately turned to Nico, opening his mouth to ask, but Nico answered before he said anything.

“Don’t worry,” the boy reassured, raising his hands. “I didn’t tell them.”

“So, why are you here?” Edward repeated, mentally sighing with relief. “I am sure that you did not come here only to tell me that.”

Percy shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you see,” he began. “No one is really supposed to know about us.”

Edward narrowed his eyes. “Are you here to wipe my memory with your magic sticks?” He asked warily. “Because I can assure you, I will not let that happen easily.”

“No, no!” Percy hurried to assure him. “Nothing like that!”

“Unless we have to,” Thalia cut in, eyeing Edward dangerously.

“But we won’t have to,” Nico added. “Because there’s no reason to. _Right,_ Thalia?” He gave Thalia a pointed look.

Thalia glared at Nico, then turned back to Ed. “I guess you could say that we came to get everything…sorted out,” she said. “According to _Nico –_ ” she sent an annoyed look at the boy. “You also know about the prophecy.”

Ed grimaced. “I still do not think I believe that,” he said. “But yes. He has told me.”

“Well, listen,” Thalia said forcefully. “Whether you believe it or not, you can’t tell _anyone_. The more people that get involved –”

“The more dangerous it becomes,” Ed finished. “Nico has told me. Many times.”

Thalia took a deep breath. “So you haven’t told Al then?” She asked cautiously.

Edward shook his head. “I promised to keep your secret, and I will. No exceptions.” Ed looked to Nico. “That was the deal.”

“So I’m guessing we won’t convince you to tell us your secret then?” Percy asked hopefully.

Ed waved a hand. “It does not concern you in any way.” He glared at Thalia and Percy. “If you know what is good for you, then you will not try to find out.”

“We have one more question for you,” Thalia said. “Do you have a relative named Nicole Elric?”

Edward frowned. “I do not know anyone by that name,” he replied. “I never knew any of my mother’s family; as far as I know, she didn’t have any. Not in our village, at least.”

“What about your father though?” Nico asked. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to be related to him?”

Edward’s expression hardened. “No,” he said shortly. “Elric is my mother’s last name.”

Percy looked confused for a split second, then nodded. “Oh,” he said. “I see.”

Thalia gave him a strange look, then shook her head. “Thanks anyway,” she muttered.

“Why do you ask?” Ed questioned. “Did you meet this person?”

“No,” Percy said hesitantly. “I had…a dream about her…kind of.”

“What?” Edward asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“It’s complicated,” Nico said with a sigh. “Basically, we sometimes have dreams that give us information. Percy had a dream, and someone named ‘Nicole Elric’ was a part of it.”

“She looked like you,” Percy offered. “I mean, I don’t remember everything, but she had golden hair and eyes; and kind of the same…” Percy stumbled slightly. “Er – stature,” he finished. “I mean her face,” he added hurriedly. “Her face looked kind of the same as yours.”

Ed furrowed his brow. “In that case, she could not be one of my mother’s relatives.”

“Why is that?” Nico asked.

Ed clenched his jaw. “My hair and eye color comes from my father,” he admitted. “But Al and I do not have any other siblings.”

“Oh,” Thalia said, a strange look coming over her face. “So, Ed,” she said, suddenly casual. “Have you ever thought about getting married?”

Edward nearly choked. “Wh-what?!” He cried, recovering. “Why would you ask something like that?!”

Thalia shrugged. “Just wondering,” she said with a disarming smile. Motioning for Percy and Nico to follow her, she turned to the castle. “We need to get inside. It’s past curfew.”

Nico and Percy shrugged and turned to follow Thalia, waving goodnight as they left. Edward watched them go, head reeling from the conversation.

**“I really am going crazy, aren’t I,”** he wondered aloud.

“That’s what everyone says about me,” a gruff voice behind him stated.

Edward whirled around, ready to fight, only to find himself face-to-face with Professor Moody and his electric blue eye, which seemed even brighter in the growing darkness.

Moody fixed Ed with his brilliant blue gaze. “Constant vigilance, boy!” He barked. “If I were an enemy, then you would be dead right now! A killing curse to the back and you never would have seen it coming!”

Ed slowly lowered his arms. “Right,” he said uneasily. Even after being around the professor for nearly three months, looking into the glowing eye still sent shivers down his spine.

“I heard that you’ve been helping Harry out,” Moody said. “That’s good! Keep him on his toes. It’ll help him in the tasks to come.”

“Yes,” Ed replied, having difficulty finding the correct English words. “I am sure it will.” 

Ed forced his voice to remain steady, even as the professor’s magical eye held his gaze, unsettling him in ways he couldn’t explain. Then the eye rolled back in Moody’s head, resuming its reckless spinning, and Ed found he could breathe again.

“I should go,” Ed said. “My brother is waiting.” Turning on his heel, Edward walked towards the castle; but he could feel the professor’s eye tracking his movement until he was out of sight.

~o~O~o~

“…And, if your circle is too large, then you will not have enough energy to complete the transmutation. You may only end up passing out, or it could be worse. I trust that none of you went over the limit I set?” Ed studied his students’ faces. None of them looked exceptionally guilty, as if they had blatantly disregarded his instructions. Of course, that could mean that they were better at hiding it.

It was a risk, he knew; letting the students draw their own transmutation circles and activate them without checking for any errors. It had to be done though; after all, they wouldn’t have someone to look over their shoulders for every transmutation. Besides, as much as he was loath to admit it, he trusted that his students would perform well; this class in particular.

Edward really should have known; considering that life hated him in every way; that something was going to go wrong. The five students had pulled out their carefully worked papers, eager to show off their first unsupervised transmutations. With so few students, they were all sitting on the front row, and Ed had to fight the urge to take a step closer and analyze every detail of their circles. As it was, he caught a glimpse of the paper the girl on the front row had laid out, but for his trained eye, one glimpse was enough.

“Wait! Don’t –” Ed lunged forward, but the blue light was already lighting up the circle, and Ed could tell from the girls face that she too realized something was wrong.

Ed’s fingers were barely able to graze the paper before an explosion sent him flying backward, slamming his head into the wall so hard that his vision went dark, and he was sure he felt something in his chest crack. Dragging himself to his feet, Ed stumbled forward. Someone was saying something, trying to get Ed’s attention, but the ringing in his ears was covering all other sounds. His only priority at that moment was to make sure his student was safe.

_‘That rebound threw me into a wall, and I wasn’t even the one performing the transmutation…’_

The girl had been thrown into the desk behind her and was laying perfectly still on the ground. The sleeves of her robes were nearly completely torn off, revealing deep gashes along her arms. Edward dropped to his knees beside her, immediately searching for a pulse on the girl’s neck. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found that her heartbeat was not dangerously weak.

Edward turned to the other students, who were pale-faced and frantic. “One of you go get Madame Pomfrey,” he ordered. One of the boys nodded quickly and ran from the room.

Ed turned his attention back to the girl, who was bleeding profusely. Clapping his hands, Ed transmuted his coat into strips of bandages, which he began wrapping around the girl’s arms. She had lost enough blood to be concerning, and it was gathering around her in red puddles –

_Blood everywhere, too much blood, stabbed in the heart –_

Edward reeled back in shock. _‘What…what was that?’_ Realizing he had frozen in the motion of tying off the final bandage, Ed shook himself out of his daze to tighten the cloth around the girl’s wrist. The bleeding was stopped, but her face was pale and she was lying still enough to be –

_Motionless in his arms, still warm yet growing colder by the second, pale and_ ** _dead_** _–_

Edward gasped and brought a hand to his head, trying to make sense of this – this feeling – or was it something more? It felt – wrong – as if something in his mind was messed up and broken but he didn’t know what –

_Dead, dead, not just dead,_ ** _murdered_** _and it’s_ ** _your fault –_**

“Edward?” One of the ginger twins had laid a hand on his shoulder. “I think you should sit down, you hit your head pretty hard…”

Edward blinked, realizing for the first time that he had risen to his feet. But he couldn’t focus on anything and the room was spinning and so was his head, trying to fit together pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t even known existed –

_She was your_ ** _friend_** _and you didn’t save her how could you_ ** _forget_** _–_

The ringing in Ed’s ears had subsided completely, but now it was replaced by a roar of thoughts that weren’t his, but they were, but he didn’t remember them and then they weren’t there but they were and he didn’t know what was happening in his own head anymore –

Edward vaguely registered that someone else had entered the room, and people were talking again; he caught the words ‘explosion’ and ‘head injury’ but he was in too much of a daze to notice anything else. A firm hand grasped his arm, and one part of his mind noted that he was being guided somewhere, while the other was in a frantic whirlwind –

One phrase pierced through the haze, and this time it didn’t disappear to be forgotten.

_“Why didn’t you save me?!”_

The accusation resonated inside Edward’s skull, clearing the fog in his mind, throwing back the curtains of his memories to reveal everything that had been hidden, dragging out his forgotten memories and laying them all bare to finally be _remembered._

Ed’s mind was thrown back into reality with such force that he would have collapsed if not for the hand supporting him. He barely had time to blink before a wand was waved in the corner of his eye, and he slipped into blackness.

_“…Ah…that’s not good…”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys…long wait again, I know. I’ve been feeling really drained lately, and writing has kinda been a struggle. I had to make myself sit down and write this chapter. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy writing this story, and once I actually start writing, it’s great. Like I said, I’ve been feeling pretty drained emotionally. School is a mess, and I’ve been really stressed. I’ll hopefully get back in the swing of writing after I finish up some tests. Until then…I would really appreciate a comment…I know asking is probably annoying at this point, but I could really use some encouragement right now…
> 
> (Still looking for a beta btw)


	9. Disasters and Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Harry**

The morning of the first task, Harry woke up feeling as if he were in a dream. Breakfast passed in a blur, and Harry barely remembered walking to his first class before he was sitting in the classroom. The whole morning passed by like this, until nearly lunchtime. Harry, Hermione, and Percy were walking towards the Great Hall when a huge _BOOM_ sounded from inside a classroom further down the hall.

The three froze in their tracks, staring at the door as if it might explode too. Two students who were closer to the door stepped back hurriedly.

“Should we see what’s wrong?” Hermione asked nervously.

Ron shrugged indifferently. “That’s Edward’s classroom, so maybe this is planned. You never know, with him…”

The classroom door flew open and Lee Jordan half-stumbled out, holding a hand to his bleeding forehead. “Somebody find a teacher,” he gasped. “I need to get Madame Pomfrey – Hurry up!” He turned and ran down the hall.

“What happened?!” On of the students in front of Harry called, but he didn’t get an answer. “I’ll go find someone,” he said, before running past Harry and down the hallway.

“Should we help?” Harry asked. “Someone could be hurt –”

“Step aside!” Professor McGonagall swept past Harry and hurried into the classroom. Seconds later, Madame Pomfrey arrived and followed suit.

“What do you think happened?” Percy asked in a hushed whisper. “Must’ve been something pretty bad…”

Hermione bit her lip nervously. “I hope everyone’s okay,” she murmured.

The door wasn’t closed properly, and Harry could hear Professor McGonagall asking something, but he couldn't catch the answer. Fred and George Weasley exited the classroom, faces pale and drawn.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked, eyes wide as they walked over.

“Y-yeah, we’re fine,” Fred said.

“Wouldn’t say the same about Holly though,” George said grimly. “Or Edward, for that matter.”

“Lee got a pretty nasty bump too, but he’ll be fine,” Fred added.

“Holly?” Percy questioned.

“Hufflepuff,” George supplied. “She got the worst of it…”

“Of what?” Hermione demanded. “What happened? Is she going to be alright?”

“I don’t know what happened,” Fred said helplessly. “She activated her circle, then Ed was yelling for her to stop –”

“– Then it exploded,” George finished. “Not a good type of explosion though.”

Professor McGonagall exited the classroom, a hand on Edward’s arm, gently guidinghim forward. Edward looked as if he were in a daze; he was breathing heavily, his eyes were glazed over; he didn’t seem to be seeing anything in front of him.

Hermione gasped when she saw him. Harry didn’t have to wonder why. Edward’s coat sleeve was ripped completely to shreds; exposing his metal arm, which had deep scratches from the hand to the elbow. It looked almost as if an animal had gotten a hold of it.

“What d’you make of that?” George muttered, staring at Ed’s arm. “Never seen anything like it…”

“Yeah,” Harry said, not letting on that he wasn’t surprised. “It’s…really something.”

Madame Pomfrey walked out of the classroom next, levitating a stretcher in front of her with a girl lying prone upon it. She was obviously unconscious; her face was pale and motionless.

“Blimey, she got it bad,” Fred said, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” George said in a serious tone. “Cuts all up her arms…she was bleeding everywhere, it was awful.”

“Only cuts?" Percy asked. "I’m sure Madame Pomfrey can heal her.” He was acting surprisingly calm about everything.

“What about Ed?” Hermione asked, twisting her hands together anxiously. “He didn’t look so good either…”

Fred and George both winced. “He tried to stop her,” George said. “So he was right next to everything.”

“The explosion blew him into the wall,” Fred continued. “Slammed his head good. He still got up and fixed some bandages, though.”

“He might have a concussion,” Hermione said, casting an anxious glance to where the teachers had disappeared. “We should go check on him after the task, Harry.”

Harry swallowed hard. The whole explosion incident had made him temporarily forget that he was supposed to fight a dragon in a little over an hour. “Right,” he managed.

“Cheer up, Harry,” Percy said, slapping him on the back. “Just don’t die, and you’ll be fine!”

“Percy!” Hermione hissed, as Harry felt himself go paler.

“Oh…sorry, Harry,” Percy apologized. “I meant – I’m sure you’ll do great!”

“You will,” Hermione said confidently, but the nervous look in her eyes betrayed her words.

“If worst comes to worst,” Percy said, “being killed by a dragon is a pretty cool way to go.”

_“Percy!”_

~o~O~o~

Five minutes before the start of the first task, Harry was more than fifty percent sure that he was going to die. Sure, he had been practicing summoning charms almost non-stop for the past two days, but if he failed to summon his Firebolt, then he had next to no chance of finishing the task.

The roar of the crowd announced the end of Krum’s fight; and in turn signaled the start of Harry’s. Harry stood without really thinking about it and exited the tent. Everything was happening in a sort of haze, as if he were dreaming.

The crowd’s cheering seemed muted. Harry couldn’t make out what Bagman was shouting, nor did he care. His only focus was on the scaly beast before him, and what he was about to do. Turning to face the castle, Harry raised his wand.

_“Accio Firebolt!”_

Seconds passed. Nothing happened. Harry felt his heart stop. A low growling brought him back to himself, as the Horntail grew tired of watching. A burst of flames exploded out of the Horntail’s mouth, headed straight towards Harry, who jumped to the right, the flames flying past his ear.

_“Accio Firebolt!”_ Harry gasped, his wand hand shaking. _“Accio Firebolt!”_

A clawed foot smashed down next to Harry, nearly crushing him. The foot was raised, and somehow, Edward’s shouted instructions kicked in. _‘Roll left!’_ Harry barely made it under the razor-sharp talon, then backpedalled frantically.

Bagman was still commentating, but Harry didn’t care what he was saying. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he failed again. In one final, desperate attempt, Harry concentrated with all his might and lifted his wand.

**_“Accio Firebolt!”_**

For a single, heart-stopping second, Harry thought that nothing would happen. Then he heard the sound of the Firebolt flying towards him, pulling to a stop right by his side. Harry threw himself onto the broom and kicked off into the air, just as the Horntail released another burst of fire. The heat brushed at his back, but he didn’t care. He was flying, the wind was rushing through his hair, and he could see exactly what he needed to do.

“Okay,” Harry said to himself. “Diversionary tactics, let’s go…”

Harry dove towards the Horntail, avoiding a jet of flame as easily as breathing. Bagman was shouting excitedly, and the crowd was roaring as loud as the dragon. Harry pulled up and began circling above the Horntail, then dove once more as the beast opened its mouth for another fire-blast.

As focused as he was on dodging the fire, Harry failed to notice the spiked tail until it had grazed his arm, ripping his robes and creating a gash along his shoulder. Harry ignored the screams and groans from the crowd. It didn’t hurt. He was almost there…

Harry swerved back towards the Horntail’s head, then up again, slowly. “Easy, easy now,” Harry muttered. “C’mon, get on up…”

The dragon roared in frustration, craning her neck as Harry flew still higher, just out of her reach. At last, she reared up, spreading her great black wings to take off. In an instant, Harry dove to the ground and snatched up the shimmering egg. Swooping up and out of the Horntail’s reach, Harry finally became completely aware of his surroundings.

“Look at that!” Bagman was yelling. “Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!”

Harry had nearly reached the ground at this point, where McGonagall, Moody, and Hagrid were waiting. The dragon-keepers rushed to subdue the Horntail as Harry landed.

“That was excellent, Potter!” Professor McGonagall cried as he dismounted. Coming from the normally stoic professor, McGonagall’s words were high praise. “You’ll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score,” McGonagall said, pointing to the tent. “Over there, she’s had to mop up Diggory already…”

“Yeh did it, Harry!” said Hagrid hoarsely. “Yeh did it! An’ agains’ the Horntail an’ all, an’ yeh know Charlie said that was the wors’ –”

“Thanks, Hagrid,” said Harry loudly, worried that Hagrid would blunder on and reveal that he had shown Harry the dragons beforehand.

Moody was standing silently by, but he offered Harry a nod and what could pass as a pleased smile. “Nice and easy does the trick, Potter,” he growled, as his magical eye fixing upon Harry for an instant before spinning wildly.

McGonagall ushered Harry towards the first aid tent before any more could be said, where Madame Pomfrey was waiting.

“Dragons!” The nurse said, disgusted. “What will they think up next…”

Still muttering about the dangers of large, scaly beasts, Madame Pomfrey dabbed at Harry’s wounds with some sort of paste, then poked at it with her wand a few times, relieving Harry of any pain he had felt before.

“Now, _sit still,_ ” Madame Pomfrey instructed sternly. “You can get your score soon.” With that, she was bustling out of the tent.

Harry, too full of adrenaline to heed Madame Pomfrey’s directions, stood and walked to the tent exit, intending to leave. Before he had gotten two steps, three people burst inside – Hermione, followed closely by Ron and Thalia.

“Harry, you were brilliant!” Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. “You were amazing! You really were!”

Thalia nodded in agreement. “That really was something,” she said.

Harry wasn’t paying much attention to either of them; he was looking at Ron, who was very white, and staring at Harry as though he was a ghost.

“Harry,” he said, very seriously, “whoever put your name in that Goblet – I – I reckon they’re trying to do you in!”

It was as though the last few weeks had never happened – as though Harry was meeting Ron for the first time, right after he’d been made champion.

“Caught on, have you?” said Harry coldly. “Took you long enough.”

Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other, while Thalia frowned and looked very much like she wanted to say something. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Harry knew Ron was about to apologize and, suddenly, he found he didn’t need to hear it.

“It’s okay,” he said, before Ron could get the words out. “Forget it.”

“No,” said Ron, “I shouldn’t’ve –”

_“Forget it,”_  Harry repeated.

Ron hesitated before grinning nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.

Hermione burst into tears.

“What are you crying about?” Harry asked her, bewildered.

“You two are so  _stupid!”_ She shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug, and dashed away, now positively howling.

Thalia watched her go, a puzzled expression on her face. She turned to Harry and Ron, who were looking at her for an explanation. “Don’t ask me,” she said with a shrug.

“Barking,” said Ron, shaking his head. “Harry, c’mon, they’ll be putting up your scores.”

Picking up the golden egg and his Firebolt, feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago, Harry ducked out of the tent, Thalia and Ron by his side. Ron was talking fast, telling Harry all the details he had missed.

“You were the best, you know, no competition,” Ron assured him. “Diggory did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground and turned it into a dog – he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burnt as well – the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the labrador, he only just got away.”

Percy and Nico were waiting just outside the tent. Percy gave Harry his usual smirk, then subtly nodded toward Ron, who was still talking, as if to say _‘I told you so.’_

“…And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm,” Ron was saying. “I think she was trying to put it into a trance – well, that kind of worked, too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire – she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand.

“And Krum – you won’t believe this, but he didn’t even think of flying!” Ron said excitedly. “He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs – they took marks off for that, he wasn’t supposed to do any damage to them.”

“As if that’s the only problem with what happened,” Thalia hissed, glaring at Ron. “Those were _actual eggs!_ With _actual, living,_ baby dragons inside!”

Ron shifted uneasily, while Percy and Nico grimaced, looking at each other in a way that made Harry think they had heard this lecture before.

“What, do you not care?” Thalia demanded. “Those are _nesting mothers_ that are being tricked into thinking that one of their children is being stolen! That in itself is bad enough, but _killing_ half of her actual children is even worse!”

“Well, yeah,” Ron said, still obviously uncomfortable. “But –”

“Harry, look, it’s your scores!” Percy interrupted, gripping Harry’s uninjured arm.

Thalia growled in annoyance at being ignored, then crossed her arms and fumed silently.

“It’s marks out of ten from each one,” Ron said, and Harry, squinting up the field, saw the first judge – Madame Maxime – raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long, silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.

“Not bad!” said Ron, as the crowd applauded. “I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder, and your summoning spell not working at first…”

Mr Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

“Looking good!” Percy complimented, thumping Harry on the back.

Next, Dumbledore. He, too, put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman –  _ten._

“Ten?” said Harry, gaping in disbelief. “But…I got hurt…and my spell didn’t even work at first! What’s he playing at?”

“Harry, don’t complain!” Ron yelled, practically jumping up and down in excitement.

Karkaroff was the last to raise his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand, too – four.

_“What?”_  Ron bellowed furiously. _“Four?_  You lousy biased scumbag, you gave Krum ten!”

Harry found himself grinning wider than ever – he couldn’t care less what score Karkaroff gave him. All he cared was that he had his best friend back, and the lowest score in the world wouldn’t be able to change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought I would have this chapter out earlier. I really did. I honestly thought that I would be early, for once. As you can see, that did not go as planned. I hope you still enjoyed, despite the lateness. Unfortunately I can’t say that I’ll have the next one out very soon, because I have a very big project/paper coming up in school soon. I’ll do my best though. As always, I love and adore your reviews, no matter the length. Just one sentence makes me feel happy even when school is crushing me.
> 
> Big thanks to both ShadeFireDragon from fanfiction.net and Lampey from Wattpad for beta-reading this chapter! You guys are awesome!


	10. Death and Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Percy**

_“Well,”_ Thalia said, crossing her arms. _“One task down, two to go.”_

The sounds of the celebration in the common room nearly drowned out her words, and Percy had to strain to hear.

_“The first two are easy though,”_ Nico reminded them. _“It’s the third one that we really need to worry about.”_

Percy snorted. _“‘Worry about’ is an understatement. The third task is where everything is going to go wrong…according to Luna…”_

Thalia clenched her jaw and glared out at the crowd of students. _“We’re not going to let that happen,”_ she growled.

_“Try and look at least a little cheerful, Thalia,”_ Percy said. _“We’re supposed to be celebrating!”_

With an obvious force of will, Thalia relaxed her posture and put a rather forced smile on her face. After what seemed like an eternity, the excitement in the common room began to wind down. As the crowd gradually began to somewhat lessen, Hermione, Ron, and Harry found their way to where the demigods were standing against a wall.

“Where’ve you been this whole time?” Ron asked.

Nico shrugged. “Right here,” he replied.

“We were going to go see Ed in the hospital wing,” Hermione sighed. “But it’s already past curfew…we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Ed’s in the hospital wing?” Thalia exclaimed. “When did this happen?!”

“Right, I forgot you weren’t there,” Percy said. “There was an explosion in one of his classes and he hit his head pretty hard.”

“Not to mention his arm,” Harry added. “His _metal_ arm – it was scratched up somethin’ awful.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “And that Hufflepuff girl,” she added in a hushed voice. “Fred and George said she had cuts all up her arms…”

“Madame Pomfrey has fixed worse,” Harry reminded them. “She grew back all the bones in my arm that one time.”

“All the same, we should go see if Ed’s alright,” Hermione said. “He was really out of it…he might not even know that his arm was exposed.”

Thalia shook her head. “I’m surprised he was able to keep it hidden for this long.”

“It was bound to come out sooner or later,” Percy agreed. “I’m sure everyone knows by now.”

“I wonder how many people will be brave enough to ask Ed about?” Ron asked. “We’ve all seen how he can react to unwanted questions.”

“Probably more than you’d think,” Thalia responded. “A metal arm isn’t really something you let slide.”

“D’you reckon anyone will find out about his leg, too?” Harry asked. “It’s pretty well hidden.”

Percy shrugged. “Unless he decides to start walking around with no shoes on, probably not.”

~o~O~o~

“This is kinda weird,” Ron commented as the group approached the hospital wing. “I mean, we’re usually in the hospital wing because you’re injured, Harry.”

“It’s not _always_ me,” Harry protested. “We visited Hermione in our second year.”

“Didn’t you get put in the hospital the same day?” Percy asked, opening the door to the hospital wing.

Harry wasn’t able to reply, as Madame Pomfrey intercepted them. “No,” she stated firmly. “I will not have every single curious student barging through here when my _patients_ are supposed to be _resting.”_ Madame Pomfrey made a shooing motion. “Immediate family only!”

“We just want to see if Edward’s alright,” Hermione protested. “Please? We won’t be long.”

Madame Pomfrey frowned. “Are you all his students?” She asked suspiciously.

“Well, not…all of us,” Thalia admitted. “Percy, Hermione, and Nico are.”

“Perfect,” Madame Pomfrey said. “Three is the limit. You three may come in, but _only_ you three.” She opened the door. “You have five minutes.”

Hermione cast an apologetic look at Harry, Ron, and Thalia. “Sorry,” she said over her shoulder as she entered the room, followed by Percy and Nico.

The Hufflepuff girl (what was her name? Molly?) was still asleep in one of the beds. That or unconscious. There were bandages wrapped around her lower arms, but her face had regained its color and her breathing was steady. Edward was in the bed to her left.

The blond looked perfectly fine, other than the bandage around his head – he was sitting up and scowling, which Percy had expected. The suit of armour that was Alphonse was towering over him, and they seemed to be engaged in a conversation.

“Edward!” Hermione called, hurrying over to his bed. “Are you alright? We heard what had happened.”

Ed turned towards them, his scowl still in place. “Believe me, I have had much worse,” he said. “I am _perfectly_ fine. The only reason I’m still here is because that _damn nurse –_ ”

“Brother,” Alphonse cut in, a disapproving note to his voice.

Edward stopped short. “I mean – the very _kind_ nurse who is _concerned for my well-being._ There, is that better, _Al?”_

Al nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.”

“You’re really fine, then?” Percy asked. “What about your arm? It looked pretty torn up.”

Ed winced and stretched out his metal arm, which was sporting several large gashes. “Yeah…that…is a problem…” Ed sighed and curled his metal fingers. The movement was jerky, not nearly as smooth as it usually was. “If it was only the outer plating that was damaged, then I could fix it right away, but some of the inner wiring was nicked.”

“How are you going to fix that?” Hermione asked, staring at the arm with wide eyes.

“I’m not,” Ed replied. “I’ll have to get my mechanic to come fix it.”

Al shook his head. “She is _not_ going to be happy with you.”

“Hey, it was _not_ my fault,” Ed snapped. “It was an accident, nothing else!”

“Since when has Winry cared whose fault it is?” Al shot back. “She’ll throw a wrench at your head either way.”

“Is this the mechanic who came last year?” Nico asked. “The one who only stayed for half a day?”

“Yep, that’s the one,” Ed sighed. “She’s written to me at least five times begging to let her come back. Maybe she won’t be as mad…”

“Wishful thinking, Brother.”

“Oh, about your arm,” Percy said. “It was kind of…visible. To everyone.”

Ed wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, I figured,” he muttered. “Just what I needed, a bunch of curious teenagers poking around at my life story.” He sighed. “Well, if anything, maybe this will scare some of them into quitting.”

“You make it sound like you _want_ people to quit,” Nico said, amused.

Ed looked up at him. “I do want people to quit,” he deadpanned.

Hermione blinked. “But – you’re a teacher!” She protested. “You should want people to learn, right?!”

Ed shrugged. “I really couldn’t care less. Besides, if everyone quits, then there will be no use for me, and I can go back to Amestris.”

_‘I never really thought about that,’_ Percy thought. _‘I guess he’s been away from home for a while, and there’s probably plenty of things he wants to be doing.’_

“Alright, time’s up,” Madame Pomfrey said coming up behind Percy, Nico, and Hermione and ushering them towards the door.

“We’ll see you in class tomorrow,” Percy called over his shoulder. Ed lifted a hand to wave in response.

“Well, how is he?” Ron asked as soon as they exited.

“He seemed fine,” Nico replied. “Grumpy as usual.”

“His arm was pretty messed up though,” Hermione reminded them. “He’s going to have to bring his mechanic here to fix it.”

“That blonde girl who came last year?” Ron asked as they began to walk down the hallway. 

“Yeah, her,” Percy replied. “I think her name was Winry.”

“We only saw her for about two minutes last year,” Ron said. “Maybe she’ll stay longer this time.”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “You guys are really nosy, you know that?”

~o~O~o~

_“So, anything new?”_ As usual, Thalia got right down to business.

_“Nothing here,”_ Percy replied, poking at the dying embers of the Common Room fire. _“Nico?”_

Nico leaned forward, a grim smile on his face. _“Actually, I did get something.”_

Thalia and Percy shot up, instantly alert. _“What is it?”_ Thalia asked eagerly.

_“I overheard Elsie talking to someone today,”_ Nico said. _“It sounds like she’s planning to sneak out of school to meet someone, and she needs a cover. I don’t know exactly what for, but the way she was talking…it definitely isn’t for anything good.”_

_“When is this happening?”_ Percy asked. _“Did you catch that?”_

Nico bit his lip. _“That’s the thing,”_ he began hesitantly. _“She’s leaving in about half an hour…give or take.”_

_“What?!”_ Thalia shot to her feet. _“Half an hour?! And you’re telling us_ ** _now?_** _We need to follow her and see what she’s doing!”_

_“Wait, Thalia!”_ Nico rose to his feet as well. _“I already told you how cautious she is, and that’s not even when she’s doing something like this! If she catches us, there’s no telling what it could do to the timeline!”_

_“He’s right,”_ Percy said. _“But if we stopped her right now…”_

_“No.”_ Thalia shook her head firmly. _“Nico’s right, we can’t risk anything like that.”_ Thalia clenched her jaw. _“But still…we need to know what she’s doing tonight. Nico, do you think you could follow her without being seen?”_

Nico hesitated. _“Do you want my answer, or the answer that Will would want me to give?”_

_“I’ll take that as a no,”_ Thalia sighed.

_“I have Annabeth’s invisibility cap,”_ Percy reminded them. _“I could wear it and follow her.”_

_“What if she meets someone outside of Hogwarts and they apparate somewhere?”_ Thalia asked. _“You’d have no way of following her!”_

_“Then I’ll come back,”_ Percy said. _“Easy. But I need to go_ ** _now._** _”_

Thalia growled in frustration. _“Fine,”_ she hissed. _“You’d better not get caught, Seaweed Brain.”_

Percy pulled Annabeth’s cap out of his bag. _“Where are they meeting?”_ He asked, turning to Nico.

_“The Shrieking Shack,”_ Nico replied. _“I have no idea how she’s going to get in though; she definitely doesn’t know about the Whomping Willow passage.”_

_“Doesn’t matter,”_ Percy said, putting the cap on as he opened the portrait door. _“I’ll be back.”_

Fifteen minutes later found Percy running through the underground tunnel towards the faint sound of voices. Percy slowed as he reached the end of the tunnel and the voices grew in volume. Percy crept towards the tunnel’s exit, taking each step with extreme care on the creaky floorboards. As he stepped out of the tunnel, Percy forced his breathing to slow; a difficult task after sprinting down the tunnel.

The room that Percy had entered was empty, but the voices, two of them, could be heard loud and clear.

“You’re sure this the right one?” Asked a young voice, laced with skepticism.

“Do you honestly think I don’t know how to do my job?” A man’s voice poisoned the air. “You’d better have the money you promised, girl.”

The man speaking was dangerous; Percy could tell that right away. He slowly inched his way to the door and looked into the room. A young girl had her back turned to Percy, but he recognized her as Elsie right away. The second person was a middle-aged man with short brown hair and piercing blue eyes. His mouth curled down into a frown, as if he hadn’t smiled in years.

_‘Elsie, just what are you getting yourself into,’_ Percy thought as he surveyed the situation. The man was holding a small, leather-bound book, with red writing on the cover. Elsie stood facing him with her arms crossed defiantly, but Percy could see her white-knuckled grip on her robes. She was scared, and doing her best to hide it.

The man held out his hand. “Pay up, kid.”

Elsie let out a harsh laugh that was a bit too high pitched to be effective. “How do I know you won’t apparate out of here as soon as I hand over my money?” Elsie shook her head. “You give me the book first, then I’ll pay you. It’s not like I have anywhere to run, after all.”

The man’s mouth curled up into a smile that looked unnatural on his face. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” He held out the book, and Elsie accepted it with a shaky hand. “Now, my payment.”

Elsie reached a hand into her pocket. Instead of pulling out gold coins, however, her hand gripped a thin wooden stick. “Screw you,” she hissed, pointing her wand at the man’s chest. _“Stupefy!”_

The man didn’t even blink as he flicked his wand, effectively placing a barrier between him and the spell. “You have a lot to learn,” he said calmly, as Elsie took a stumbling step backward. “For one, _always_ go for the kill.” The man raised his wand.

Percy stood, frozen, at the doorway, a million thoughts racing through his head. _‘She’s not going to die,’_ was his most prominent thought, followed quickly by: _‘unless we messed up the timeline that badly, but that can’t be – right? But what if we did – should I save her?’_

_“Stop!”_ The cry rang out through the otherwise silent shack.

Elsie’s eyes widened. “Mathew?! What –”

The man turned, wand still up, to face the interruption. _“Avada Kedavra!”_

The spell stuck true, and Percy could only stare in horror as the brown-haired boy who had revealed himself fell to the ground, motionless, and Elsie _screamed_.

“Brought back up, did you?” The man asked, turning back to Elsie with a cruel smirk on his face. “I thought I said to come alone, girl.”

Elsie’s face showed only horror as the man raised his wand again, this time pointing straight at her chest. Percy didn’t even have time to think about pulling out Riptide, or his wand, before the curse struck.

_“Avada Kedavra.”_

Elsie didn’t scream this time, or even raise her voice. Rather, she whispered the curse with enough venom in her voice to make Percy shiver. “You can thank Professor Moody for that one,” she hissed as the man fell to the floor, the same way that the boy had.

Percy watched, motionless, as Elsie’s entire composure vanished in a heartbeat. Her wand slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor. Her breath came in short, frantic, gasps and she stumbled to where the boy had fallen, then fell to her knees beside him.

“No, no,” she whispered, desperation glaringly obvious in every inch of her body. “Mathew, no, _damn it_ you – you _idiot_ why did you follow me –” She was sobbing now, her words barely audible through her tears. “W-why would you do that you _idiot –”_ Elsie crumpled forward onto the boy’s body. “You s-stupid brother you’re so _s-stupid –”_

Somewhere in the back of Percy’s mind, he felt that he should do something, _anything,_ to help – but there’s was nothing he could do but watch Elsie sob uncontrollably over her dead brother’s body.

“Please,” Elsie whimpered, her voice hardly a whisper. “Please, someone help me, _please…”_ Elsie lifted her head, revealing her tear-stained face. “Please, I didn’t want this!” She cried, her voice becoming panicked. “This wasn’t supposed to happen! There’s got to be some way to fix it, some way to _go back! Please!”_ She was shouting now, but there was no one to listen.

Percy gripped his robes, forcing his hands to remain steady. _‘I couldn’t have done anything,’_ he told himself, but even to him the words sounded hollow. _‘I couldn’t risk changing anything,’_ he thought, but it didn’t lessen the guilt he felt.

At that moment, Percy didn’t see a future ‘bad guy’ he had to fight. He didn’t see an evil, cunning child who would go on to kill who knows how many innocent people. All he saw was a broken, sobbing little girl, who would do anything to turn back the clock – to fix her mistakes.

|

o

|

O

|

o

|

_The bond shared between family, whether by the blood of the covenant or water of the womb, is the strongest of any. One will die to protect it, another will kill. But, despite their best efforts, one will always leave the other alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man…I suck at updating on time. I would say sorry, but at this point I just…yeah. I have finals this week, which sucks, but once I’m through those I will hopefully have more time for writing. But then I’ll start dual enrollment in the spring, so…can I just say ‘ouch’? To all of you who have left reviews/comments telling me not to stress over updating/giving me general encouragement, thank you so much. You guys are what keeps me going, and your reviews/comments cheer me up no matter how bad of a day I’m having. I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll try extra hard to have the next chapter out earlier. I hate keeping you guys waiting. (also I seem to get fewer reviews the longer it takes to update, not that I blame you…)


	11. Visitors and Validation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

* * *

 

**Edward**

**“How mad can she be, really?”** Ed asked, shifting on his hospital bed. **“It wasn’t my fault, after all. It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. Besides, the damage isn’t even that bad!”**

Alphonse sighed. **“We’ve been over this, Brother. Winry doesn’t care whose fault it was, or how bad the damage is. You should be worrying about what she’s going to throw at your head instead.”**

Ed groaned. **“C’mon Al, be a little more optimistic! Maybe she’ll be so excited about being here again that she won’t be mad!”**

**“Winry?”** Al asked skeptically. **“I wouldn’t count on it.”**

**“Well, I guess I’ll find out soon enough,”** Ed said with a sigh.

A moment passed in silence before Ed hesitantly spoke. **“Hey, Al,”** he began. **“Do you…do you remember me sending you a letter last year, about a girl named Susan White?”**

Al looked up, surprised. **“Yeah, I remember,”** he said softly. **“She died in that awful accident. You were really upset about it.”**

Ed frowned. **“Accident, right,”** he muttered.

**“Is something wrong?”** Al asked, puzzled.

Ed shook his head. _‘So Al doesn’t remember then. Maybe I hit my head too hard or something, or I’m going crazy.’_ Ed tightened his grip on the sheets. _‘No. I_ _remember_ **_._ ** _But why is it only me? Why is everyone else so convinced that her death – and Luna’s – was accidental? And even my letter to Al was affected? Just how powerful was the spell that changed everyone’s memories?’_

**“Brother?”**

Ed jumped, Al’s voice returning him to the present. **“Yeah? What is it?”**

**“Nothing,”** Al said hesitantly. **“You had a funny look on your face, that’s all.”**

Ed waved his hand dismissively. **“It’s nothing,”** he said. **“Just thinking about something.”**

_‘Maybe Nico has something to do with it,’_ Ed thought. _‘At the very least, maybe he knows something.’_

**_“Edward!”_** A blaze of fury slammed the door open, and Ed barely registered the blur of metal before it collided with his skull.

**_“Ow!_ Winry! I have a _concussion!”_**

**“And whose fault is that, Alchemy Freak?! What did you do _this time?”_** Winry gripped her wrench tighter and glared down at him.

**“Ms. Rockbell,”** Professor McGonagall interrupted, stepping up behind her. **“I would kindly ask that you refrain from causing Mr. Elric any further harm. Madame Pomfrey would be most displeased.”**

Ed looked up in surprise. **“You’re speaking Amestrian?”** He asked, puzzled.

**“Merely a temporary translation spell,”** Professor McGonagall clarified. **“If Ms. Rockbell is planning on an extended stay then I should administer her one as well.”**

Winry turned to face the professor with wide eyes. **“You’re going to do magic on me? Really? Will it feel weird?”** She turned back to Ed without waiting for an answer. **“Does it feel weird?”**

Ed rubbed his aching head. **“Uh…not really,”** he answered. **“I don’t remember feeling anything.”**

**“I’ll take care of your arm first,”** Winry decided, tightening her grip on her bag. **“What did you do to it?”** She asked, glaring at Ed.

**“It’s not even that bad,”** Ed grumbled. **“It’s barely scratched!”**

Winry yanked his arm forward for inspection. **“Barely scratched?”** She hissed, examining the deep scratches along the metal plating, and the exposed wires beneath. **“You call _this_ barely scratched?”**

**“It could be way worse,”** Ed said with a shrug. **“Considering the circumstances.”**

**“And what were the circumstance?”** Winry asked, placing her hands on her hips. **“You better not have been in a fight or something. You’re at a _school_ for heaven’s sake!”**

**“It was an alchemy accident,”** Al said, speaking for the first time since Winry’s rather explosive entrance. **“One of the students had an improperly balanced circle.”**

Winry’s glare lessened. **“Oh,”** she said. **“Is the student alright?”**

Ed nodded towards a bed on the far side of the room. **“She’s not too bad off. She’s mostly healed now.”**

The girl in the bed, noticing the attention she was getting, waved nervously. Ed gave her a reassuring grin and waved back.

Winry sighed and set her bag on the floor. **“I’ll have to completely replace the outer plating and any wires that were cut,”** Winry said as she examined Ed’s arm. **“You got lucky; it looks like only a few were badly damaged, so I should be able to fix it quickly.”** She let go of Ed’s arm. **“You’ll still have to take it off though.”**

Ed grimaced as Winry detached the metal limb. It wasn’t that taking it off was uncomfortable, but reattaching it certainly was.

**“As soon as I’m done, you two are showing me the rest of the castle,”** Winry said before turning to Professor McGonagall, who had been speaking to Madame Pomfrey. **“Excuse me, is there a table I can work at?”**

**“Of course,”** Professor McGonagall replied, pulling out her wand. With a wave, she had transformed a nearby bed into a simple work table. **“If you need anything else, inform Madame Pomfrey,”** she said. **“I’ll take care of your translation spell now, and then I must be off; I have a class to attend to.”**

Winry tore her eyes away from the table-that-used-to-be-a-bed as Professor McGonagall raised her wand again. The girl braced herself as Professor McGonagall waved her wand once more, then cautiously asked; “Did you…do it? Am I speaking English now?”

Al laughed. “Yes, you are,” he said.

“Oh.” Winry looked surprised. “You’re right, I didn’t feel anything.”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. “I’ll be going now,” she said, with a nod in Winry’s direction. “Enjoy your stay, Ms. Rockbell.” With that, she turned and exited the room.

Madame Pomfrey approached the table where Winry had set Ed’s arm. “This is an interesting contraption,” the nurse mused. “I’d never seen anything like it until last year.”

“You mean you don’t have automail here?” Winry cried. “What do you do when someone loses a limb?”

“Here we go,” Ed muttered, rolling his eyes at Al, who sighed.

“Well, most often we can regrow it with magic,” Madame Pomfrey replied. “There are some cases, however, such as Professor Moody, when the limb cannot be regrown. It’s a rare occurrence; it usually only happens if the limb has been severed with dark magic, or if it has been missing for a long time.”

“What does Professor Moody have then?” Winry asked as she picked up her tool bag and set it on the table.

“Professor Moody has a wooden leg,” Madame Pomfrey said. “Hardly ideal, but the best we can do.”

Ed tuned Winry out as she and Madame Pomfrey began discussing the pros and cons of artificial limbs. Instead, his thoughts returned to his recently regained memory.

_‘I think I have it all straight now,’_ Ed thought. _‘My memory starts getting split about the time Susan and Luna died – when they were_ _killed,_ _that is.’_ Ed furrowed his brow, thinking. _‘Everyone thinks that their deaths were some sort of accident, and until yesterday, that’s what I thought. But then –’_

_Blood. Susan’s eyes growing dim. Her cold weight in his arms._

Ed grimaced. _‘I’m sure she was killed. I clearly remember it. But…I also remember speaking to her family, and I know that everyone knew they were both killed, so what changed that?’_

_Sirius Black. An old shack. Ron’s rat._

_‘That night…that’s when it must have happened,’_ Ed decided. _‘After that night, I don’t remember anyone mentioning Susan and Luna’s deaths as if they were killed. That’s also the night when Sirius Black claimed to be innocent…but Ron’s rat was his proof…but Ron didn’t have his rat…’_

Ed clenched his jaw in frustration. _‘So whoever cast this memory spell, or whatever it is, for some reason they wanted Black to escape. But why?’_

Ed closed his eyes. _‘C’mon, think…what_ _exactly_ _happened that night?’_ Something was tugging at the edge of his mind, a fuzzy memory that he couldn’t quite place. _‘Something happened…something with…Thalia?'_

Ed remembered Thalia acting strange; she had definitely been on Black’s side, and he had thought it strange at the time.

_Thalia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then lifted both hands, palms down. “Hecate,” she whispered.“You probably aren’t listening, but…I could use some help…if you could spare a moment for preventing what could possibly be the end of the world.”_

Ed’s eyes flew open, and it took all he had not to jump out of his bed to demand answers right then.

_‘Thalia, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.’_

~o~O~o~

“And this is the Great Hall.” Al pushed open the huge doors, revealing the enormous room. “We eat in here.”

Winry stepped into the room and gazed around in wonder. “Wow,” she breathed, craning her neck to look up at the enchanted ceiling. “That isn’t really the sky, is it?”

“No,” Ed said, walking in after her. “It’s enchanted to show the sky outside.”

“That’s so cool!” Winry exclaimed, still staring up in awe.

“It really is, isn’t it?” Al agreed.

Ed shrugged. “You get used to it.”

Winry turned to him with a frown. “You can’t deny that it’s amazing, even if you don’t agree with what magic is.”

“I guess,” Ed conceded.

“Oh, look at that!” Winry dashed to the opposite end of the hall, where something had caught her eye.

Ed watched as Al ran after her, then the two began excitedly talking, with Winry pointing in a new direction every second. _‘It’s a good thing there are classes right now,’_ Ed thought. _‘Or there would be a huge crowd.’_ Ed pulled out his watch and glanced at it. _‘Well, for the next five minutes anyway.’_

Winry and Al had made their way back to Ed, all while Winry turned her head around at impressive speeds.

“Where to next?” She asked brightly.

“Maybe the library?” Ed asked hopefully.

Winry wrinkled her nose. “You’re in a magical castle and you want to go to the _library?_ Really?”

“I know!” Al exclaimed. “We should go visit Mr. Hagrid, and he can show you his magic animals!”

“ _That_ is something I’d like to see,” Winry said, grinning at Al. “Then maybe we can find a teacher to explain those moving pictures to me!”

The trio walked towards the doors, while Winry began talking about her fascination with the moving pictures that lined the walls, with Al chiming in occasionally. The halls gradually began to fill with students as classes began to let out.

“Oi! Ed!” A red-headed blur jumped in front of the group, stopping them in their tracks. “I finished grading this week’s assignments!” The blur, now identified as Ginny Weasley, held out a stack of papers.

“Already?” Ed asked, surprised. “I gave you those two days ago!”

Ginny straightened up proudly. “I work fast,” she declared.

“Ed, are you making your students do your work for you?” Winry asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No!” Ed protested. “She volunteered!”

“In exchange for fighting lessons,” Ginny clarified. “I’m not doing it out of the goodness of my heart.” She waved the papers in front of Ed’s face. “Well? Are you going to check them?”

Ed took the papers with a sigh. “Yeah, I might as well get it over with,” he said, before turning to Al and Winry. “I’ll meet you at dinner, alright?”

Al and Winry voiced their agreement, then trudged off in the opposite direction.

Ginny waited until they were out of earshot before she spoke again. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“What?!” Ed sputtered, caught completely off guard. “Why would you think that? She is a friend! And my mechanic! That is _it!”_

“You know,” Ginny began, giving him a sly smile. “That much protesting is usually a sign that the opposite is true.”

Ed huffed and stomped down the hallway. “What do you know anyway?” He grumbled.

Ginny smirked as she followed him to the alchemy classroom. “More than you’d think,” she taunted.

Upon entering the classroom, Ed found that it looked no worse for wear, despite the explosion from two days ago.

“Professor McGonagall fixed everything for you,” Ginny explained, seeing his confusion. “Fred and George said it was a mess…blood on the floor and everything…” she shuddered.

“I’ll have to thank her,” Ed said, setting the stack of papers on his desk. Sitting down, he pulled the first sheet towards him. “Wow.” Ed blinked, staring at what seemed to be an exact copy of his own handwriting. “You’re pretty good.”

Ginny smirked and took a seat behind one of the front-row desks. “That’s not the half of it,” she said smugly.

Ed finished looking through the homework assignments within half an hour, which was a record time for him. He pushed the stack of papers aside and stood to his feet.

“So, no mistakes then?” Ginny asked hopefully, looking up from the book she had pulled out.

Ed shook his head. “None,” he said, somewhat surprised himself. “You did a good job.”

Ginny’s grin widened. “So you’ll teach me then? Tonight?”

“Of course,” Ed replied. “But I’d like you to do one more thing for me first.”

“Oh?” Ginny raised her eyebrows. “What is it?”

“I have something I need to take care of,” Ed said. “But I don’t want anyone knowing about it right now. If Winry or Al ask where I am, can you tell them I’m still grading?”

Ginny shrugged. “Sure, I’ll tell them.”

“Perfect.” Ed grinned and walked towards the door. “I’ll see you tonight; eight o’clock.”

~o~O~o~

Finding Nico wasn’t as hard as Ed had first thought it might be, considering the size of Hogwarts. Maybe it would have been, if Ed hadn’t literally run into the boy not two minutes after leaving his classroom.

“Nico! Perfect.” Ed grabbed Nico’s arm and pulled the boy away from a very startled Harry and Ron. “I need to speak with you. Alone.”

“Um – I’ll meet you guys at dinner, I guess?” Nico called to Harry and Ron, who looked unsure about how to react.

Once they were a safe distance away, Ed released his grip on Nico’s arm. “I need to talk to you,” he repeated. “And Thalia. _Especially_ Thalia.”

Nico eyed him warily and rubbed his arm. “What is this about?” He asked.

Ed’s eyes hardened. “Somebody shoved some fake memories into my head,” he hissed. “Somebody being _Thalia._ I’d appreciate an explanation.”

Nico’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “That…wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Well, it _did_ happen,” Ed said, glaring at the boy. “So are you going to explain or not?”

Nico tightened his jaw. “I need to talk to Percy and Thalia first,” he said.

“Alright,” Ed said, not lessening his glare in the slightest. “I’ll come with you, and we can all have a nice long talk, and you can explain just what the hell you did!”

“It’s not that simple –” Nico began, but Ed cut him off.

“I know it’s not that simple! You changed the memories of hundreds of people! You better have a damn good explanation for why you did it!”

“We do,” Nico said through gritted teeth. “But it’s not an explanation that we can go around telling everyone!”

“It’s my mind you’re messing with!” Ed argued. “I think I deserve an explanation!”

Nico sighed. “Look,” he began. “All I can tell you right now is that we had a _very_ good reason for doing what we did, and –” Nico cut himself off as a group of students passed by. “Look,” Nico said once they were past. “This isn’t a good time or place to talk about this. We both know that.”

Ed narrowed his eyes. “Fine,” he said shortly. “Tonight then. Nine o’clock, after I finish teaching Ginny. Meet me in the Quidditch pitch.”

Nico didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded. “Alright. We’ll be there.”

“You better be,” Ed said. “And you better have answers. _Real_ answers.”

Nico didn’t reply. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway towards the Great Hall. Ed watched him go, a feeling of apprehension working its way up his spine. _‘Why do I feel like something terrible is about to happen?’_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays my lovely readers! I didn’t get this chapter out as early as I planned, but at least I’m not late again, right? Now that I have a break from school, I have much more time to write, which is very nice. I say this every chapter, but I’ll try to have the next one out sooner. I’m very motivated to write right now, before school picks back up and I’m completely swamped again.
> 
> Anyways, I’d love it if you left a comment as a Christmas present? They are my lifeblood.


	12. Hallucinations and Halos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

* * *

 

**Harry**

_“Oh Harry~”_

_A singsong voice pierced through Harry’s consciousness. He turned within the black void, not sure what he was expecting to see. He found himself facing a young girl; no older than 12; the only spot of color within the infinite expanse of darkness. The girl was wearing a Hogwarts uniform, but Harry couldn’t recall ever having seen her before. Her long, red-brown hair framed her brown face, and her pale green eyes were wide and innocent._

_“Hello.” The girl smiled. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a looooong time, Harry.”_

_Harry blinked. “I’m dreaming,” he realized._

_The girl’s smile widened. “Very astute of you, Harry.” She took a step forward._

_“Who are you?” Harry asked, eyeing her warily. There was something about her presence, even within a dream, that unsettled him._

_“Right down to it, eh?” The girl asked, tilting her head. “My name isn’t important. I’m here to help you.”_

_Harry frowned. “Help me with what?” He asked. “This is a dream. How are you supposed to help me?”_

_The girl took another step forward. “Just because it’s a dream doesn’t make me any less real,” she said. “I’m as real as you.” As if to prove herself, the girl lifted one hand and gently poked Harry’s chest._

_Harry stepped back. “You haven’t answered my question,” he said. “What are you going to help me with? The tournament?”_

_The girl shrugged. “I supposed, in a way,” she said vaguely. “But I supposed you could say I’m more here to help your friends.”_

_“My friends?” Harry asked, puzzled. “What do they need help with?”_

_The girl’s smile widened. “It’s simple,” she said brightly. Leaning closer, she spoke again. “Your friends are gonna die, Harry.”_

_Harry froze and stared at the girl, who was still smiling. “What – what do you mean?” He stammered._

_The girl’s smile faded and was replaced with an innocent expression. “I mean what I said, Harry,” she replied. “Your_ friends _are_ _go-_ nna _die_ ,” _she repeated in a singsong voice._

_“How would you even know that?” Harry demanded. “Besides, this is a dream! It’s not like any of this is real!”_

_The girl tilted her head up at him. “Are you sure about that?” She asked. “If it’s all only a dream, then why haven’t you woken up?”_

_Harry paused. “I haven’t decided to, I suppose,” he said after a moment._

_The girl smiled. “Well then, how about you try and wake up?”_

_Another moment passed. The girl kept on smiling. Harry frowned and tried to focus, but nothing seemed to be happening._

_“See?” The girl said at last. “You can’t wake up, because I’m real, and I’m keeping you asleep. Get it?”_

_Harry clenched his jaw and stared at the girl. “Let’s say I do believe you,” he said. “How would you even know that my friends are going to – to die?”_

_“Simple,” the girl replied, spreading her arms out to her sides. “I’m from the future.”_

_“That’s impossible,” Harry replied immediately. “Unless you have a time-turner, and even then, they can’t travel more than a few hours back.”_

_“Is that so?” The girl asked, letting her arms fall to her sides. “Maybe I’m more resourceful than you think.”_

_Harry felt his temper rising as the girl continued to smile up at him. “Alright,” he said slowly. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”_

_The girl stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “You don’t trust me, Harry?” She asked. “I’m hurt.”_

_“Quit avoiding the question!” Harry snapped, clenching his fists._

_The girl gave an over-exaggerated sigh. “You’ll have to go without proof for now,” she said. “That is, until the first person dies.” The girl’s smile brightened. “Soooo many of them die, Harry,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “There’s your wonderful godfather, and that nice teacher from last year…Remus Lupin, right? Oh, and of course, how could I forget Fred?”_

_Harry tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut as the girl stopped and smiled up at him. “This is a_ dream,” _he repeated, though his voice wavered. “None of what you’re saying is –”_

_“Still going with that, are we?” The girl interrupted. “I guess you’ll see soon enough.” The girl tilted her head at him once more. “That nice redhead is gonna go pretty soon. Maybe then you’ll listen.”_

_Despite his own reassurances, Harry felt his heart stop. “You mean – Ron?” He whispered, dreading the answer._

_The girl laughed. “No, not him,” she said. “His sister! Ginny!” The girl sighed and turned away from Harry. “It’s a pity, really.”_

_“When?” Harry found himself asking. “When is she  – when are you saying she’s going to die?”_

_The girl turned back to Harry. “Soon. Really soon, actually,” she said. “Two days from now.” The girl’s face lit up. “That means I only have to wait two days for you to listen to me!”_

_“What happens?” Harry asked, panic rising within him despite his mistrustfulness. “What’s going to happen to Ginny?!”_

_“Oh, you know,” the girl said with a wave of her hand. “Wrong place, wrong time…” the girl’s innocent smile spread across her face. “Then… Avada Kadavra, and she’s gone-gone.” The girl’s smile grew, as innocent as ever. “Bye-bye Ginny,” she said, positively giddy._

_“You mean –” Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat. “You mean – someone’s going to_ kill _her? Who – who would do that?”_

_The girl raised her eyebrows. “Finally starting to listen, then?”_

_“Tell me!” Harry shouted at the girl, who looked unfazed._

_“Why, the same person who killed Luna and Susan last year,” she said. “Who else?”_

_“But –” Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. “They weren’t killed…that was an accident!”_

_“An accident?” The girl stared at him, amused. “Is that what they told you? Cute.”_

_Harry’s mind was spinning. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “This is all –”_

_The girl sighed loudly, cutting him off mid-sentence. “For the last time,” she said, “this may be a dream, but I’m still real! And if you want to save Ginny, along with everyone else who’s going to die, then you have to listen to me.”_

_“Why would you even want to help me?” Harry challenged. “You don’t seem to care about them dying, so why try to stop it?”_

_The girl wrinkled her nose. “Is it too much to accept that I want to help you out of the goodness of my heart?”_

_“Maybe if you weren’t smiling while telling me about my friends’ deaths, I would believe that,” Harry shot back._

_The girl shrugged. “Fair enough.”_

_“Well?” Harry prodded. “Why are you helping me?”_

_The girl tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Let’s say that it’s in my best interests,” she decided._

_“And what might those interests be?” Harry asked._

_“Nothing you need to know about,” the girl said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ll find out if you need to.”_

_Harry clenched his jaw. “This is ridiculous,” he hissed._

_“Why, because you’re ‘only dreaming’?” The girl asked. “Maybe you would listen more if you were awake?”_

Harry’s eyes snapped open, and he jerked up in his bed with a gasp. The room was dark, with only his roommates’ quiet breathing to break the silence. The curtains around Harry’s bed suddenly seemed stifling, and he yanked them open, hoping to let in fresh air. Seated on the floor by Harry’s bed was the girl from his dream.

“Well?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Ready to talk now?”

Harry jumped back, nearly falling off his bed in surprise. “You can’t be real,” he said. “That’s not possible.”

The girl sighed. “Harry,” she began as if speaking to a small child. “I told you, I’m _real._ The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can start working on saving people. Starting with Ginny.”

“I’m hallucinating,” Harry muttered, staring at the girl. “That must be it. Or maybe some cursed me, or something…I should ask Hermione…”

“No, no, no.” The girl shook her head on each word. “Can’t have that. If you tell too many people about the future, you might mess something up. You’re the only one who can know about me.”

“You aren’t even real!” Harry protested. “Wait – why am I even talking to you?!” He cried. “You’re – a figment of my imagination – or something!”

The girl shook her head again and sighed. “I see you aren’t going to listen to me right away,” she said in a resigned voice. “Maybe eventually.” The girl stretched her arms above her head and scooted around so that she was leaning against Harry’s bed. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Harry stared at the girl, but she made no more movement. After several seconds of silence, Harry slowly lay back down and closed his eyes.

“Oi, Harry!” Ron’s familiar voice roused Harry from his sleep. “Hurry up Mate, we’re gonna be late!”

Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes with one hand and grabbed his glasses with the other. “I had the weirdest dream last night,” he said through a yawn. Fixing his glasses on his face, Harry barely suppressed a shout of surprise.

“I _told_ you,” the girl said in exasperation. “I’m _real._ R-E-A-L, _real._ How many times is it going to take?”

Harry stared with his mouth open, refusing to believe what was in front of him. Ron was saying something to Percy, but Harry didn’t make out the words. Everyone in the room seemed oblivious to the strange girl, almost as if they couldn’t see her at all.

“Harry, are you alright?” Nico asked, frowning at Harry. “What are you staring at?”

Harry tore his eyes away from the girl. _‘Don’t you see her?!’_ He tried to say. _‘She’s standing right there!’_

“Nothing,” he found himself saying instead. “I’m still half asleep, I guess.”

“I told you, Harry,” the girl sang. “No one else can know.” She waved a finger in front of him. “That means _no telling_.” The girl offered a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t slip up.”

~o~O~o~

The girl followed Harry for the rest of the day. In every class, in every minute, she was there. She would chime in with comments every now and then, and Harry ignored her every time. He kept hoping that he would turn around to see she had disappeared, but every time he glanced to the side, there she stood, with that same innocent smile on her face.

For half the day this continued. Harry wasn’t sure how long it took before he tried to tell Hermione. The instant he tried to open his mouth, however, the girl had jumped in front of him with a disapproving frown and he found that he couldn’t move his lips.

“No telling,” she would say with a wave of her finger. “We’ve been over this, Harry.”

As the day passed, Harry grew more and more desperate. The girl couldn’t be real. She couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. Yet, at the same time…she had to be. She had to be using some sort of powerful magic to keep Harry from speaking. But that wasn’t possible for someone her age…it wasn’t. She wasn’t real…she couldn’t be…she definitely couldn’t be from the future…right?

After nearly the whole day had passed, Harry wasn’t any closer to an answer. The last class of the day ended, and Harry still had no idea what to do. He, Ron, and Nico exited the classroom, Ron chatting amiably, oblivious to his friend’s dilemma.

“Nico, perfect!”

Harry and Ron jumped, startled by Edward’s sudden appearance.

“I need to speak with you,” Ed said, grabbing Nico’s arm and pulling him down the hallway. “Alone.”

Nico stumbled, caught off guard. “Um – I’ll meet you guys at dinner, I guess?” He called over his shoulder.

“That was weird,” Ron said as they watched Nico and Edward disappear down the hallway.

Harry shrugged. “Nico is in his alchemy class. It’s probably something to do with that.”

“Or not,” a sing-song voice said from Harry’s left. “It could be anything. You never know.” The girl next to Harry tipped her head up to give him an innocent smile.

Harry grit his teeth and forced himself to ignore her. “I suppose we should go back to the Common Room,” he said to Ron. “Dinner isn’t for a while.”

“Oh come on Harry.” The girl stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “I’m just trying to make conversation. You don’t have to ignore me.”

Ron nodded in agreement, oblivious to the girl next to Harry. “Yeah, we can drop our bags there.”

The two boys resumed walking towards the common room. The girl next to Harry followed close behind.

“I get it,” the girl said. “You don’t want Ron to think you’re crazy. Maybe we can talk later?” The girl gave him her innocent smile. “I get lonely, after all, with you ignoring me like this.”

Harry kept his eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge the girl. _‘Maybe I really am going crazy,’_ he thought hopelessly. _‘Why else would I be hallucinating like this?’_

“I’m not a hallucination, Harry.” The girl frowned up at Harry. “Haven’t we been over this?”

_‘So you can read my mind now?’_ Harry thought. _‘That just makes me think you’re a hallucination even more. After all, if you’re something my mind made up, then of course you would know what I’m thinking.’_

The girl sighed. “You’re overthinking things,” she said. “You’ll see…after Ginny dies.”

Harry flinched, then quickly looked over to see if Ron had noticed. The red-head was talking about something involving quidditch and hadn’t seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary.

_‘Ginny’s not going to die,’_ he thought fiercely. _‘There’s no reason anyone would want to kill her.’_

“It’s like I said,” the girl reminded him. “Wrong place, wrong time, and…” the girl snapped her fingers. “No more Ginny. She’s gone. Dead for forever and ever and ever and ever and –”

_‘Shut up!’_ Harry tightened his grip on his bag so that his knuckles turned white. The girl laughed.

“Why don’t you let me help you then?” She asked. “Listen to what I tell you, and you save Ginny. Simple.”

_‘Assuming you are real,’_ Harry thought. _‘Why should I listen to you? You haven’t even told me your name!’_

“My name isn’t important,” the girl said. “Though… I suppose you should have something to call me by since we’ll be spending a lot of time together. So, for now…” a mischievous smile spread across the girl’s face. “You can call me Alex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gasps* What’s this?? A chapter out early??? This hasn’t happened since the first book!! I got hit with sudden inspiration, so…thank you muse! Maybe leave a comment as a reward for my hard work? Happy New Year everyone!


	13. Decisions and Deliberation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

* * *

**Percy**

“He _what?!”_ Thalia cried, staring at Nico in shock. “How is that even _possible?!”_

“That’s what I said,” Nico said, shifting his weight in agitation.

“So you’re saying that Edward somehow…wasn’t affected by the mist?” Percy asked. “Everyone else is fine, why should he be any different?”

Thalia ran her hand through her hair and sighed in frustration. A gentle breeze sent ripples across the lake. Silence dominated the group. Finally, Nico spoke.

“We have to come up with something to tell him,” the boy said as he lowered himself to sit on the grass. “We’re supposed to meet him in the quidditch pitch at nine tonight, and he wants answers.”

“What are we supposed to tell him?” Percy asked. “We can’t possibly tell him the truth!”

Thalia frowned in concentration. “Maybe if the mist won’t work, we could obliviate him?” She suggested.

Nico shook his head. “He’ll be expecting something like that, Thals. We need to tell him something believable.”

“Maybe we _can_ tell him the truth,” Percy said slowly. “Not all of it,” he hurried to assure at Nico and Thalia’s incredulous looks. “We could tell him that we knew that Sirius was innocent, and that changing everyone’s memories was the only way for him to go free.”

“But how are we going to tell him we knew that Sirius was innocent?” Thalia pointed out. “As far as he knows, there were eyewitnesses who saw Sirius kill Luna and Susan. There’s no reason for him to believe us!”

Nico bit his lip and stared into the water. “Maybe…maybe we _should_ tell him the truth. The whole truth, I mean.”

Thalia turned to gape at Nico. “Were you not listening when Chiron told us that we _could not tell_ _anyone_ that we’re from the future?! Or did that fly right past you?!”

“Well we don’t really have another choice, Thalia!” Nico snapped. “Besides, this is different! Edward isn’t a part of the original timeline – he’s an anomaly! I get that we can’t tell Harry and the others, because they can’t know their own future, but telling Edward won’t really do much harm…right?”

“And what if it turns out we can’t trust him?” Thalia challenged, her voice rising in anger. “What if we tell him and then he turns around and –”

“And what, Thalia?” Nico interrupted. “Who’s he going to tell? Besides that, why would he? We know that Elsie is planning to use him for something, so it’s not like he’s working with _her –_ not to mention, we’ve already told him nearly everything else about us!”

“Nico may have a point, Thalia,” Percy said cautiously. “So far, Edward hasn’t told anyone that we’re demigods, or about the prophecy, or anything else we’ve told him.”

Thalia grimaced. “I guess that’s true,” she admitted grudgingly. “But still…I don’t like this. At all.”

“Neither do I,” Nico said, rising to his feet. “It’s just that we don’t really have another choice. And besides…” Nico hesitated. “It may be good to have another ally.”

Thalia stared at the ground and said nothing. After several seconds of this, Percy spoke.

“So…are we all agreed then?” He asked, glancing from Nico to Thalia.

Thalia’s expression hardened. “If this goes wrong…” she shook her head.

“That’s a risk we’re going to have to take,” Nico said, his expression equally serious.

Thalia was silent for several seconds. “Alright,” she said at last. “Because we don’t have another choice.”

Percy took a deep breath. “That’s settled then,” he said. “And…there was something else I wanted to talk to you guys about.”

“What is it?” Thalia asked warily.

“Nothing bad,” Percy said quickly. “But I was thinking…about my dreams.”

“What about them?” Nico asked. “Haven’t you been taking the dreamless drought?”

“That’s the thing,” Percy said, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ve been taking it for a while now, so I thought, you know, maybe I should stop taking it for one night and see if anything had changed…so I did.”

“I knew you seemed more tired then usual,” Nico said.

“Did you get anything?” Thalia asked at the same time.

Percy looked away. “Well…not really,” he admitted. “But when I was awake last night, I was thinking – however my dreams are being blocked, it must be some sort of spell or something, right? So maybe we could find a way to get around it.”

Thalia furrowed her brow. “You may be right,” she said. “I’ve never heard of any spell like that though…”

“Maybe it’s not just a spell,” Nico pointed out. “We know that Elsie is a daughter of Hecate, so she could be using a completely different type of magic.”

Percy’s shoulders slumped. “I guess there’s no way of us doing anything about it then,” he said dejectedly.

“That’s not necessarily true,” Nico said. “She may have based whatever she’s doing in a spell, so we should look in the library and see if we can find anything.”

Thalia nodded in agreement. “You should get right on that Nico,” she said with a smirk. “After all, Little Elsie has been spending a lot of time there –”

“Why do _I_ have to be the only one to follow her around?” Nico protested. “And couldn’t we come up with something other than ‘Little Elsie’ to call her?”

“Because you’re the best at stealth, and no,” Percy answered easily.

“I’m the best at stealth?” Nico asked. “You have an invisibility hat!”

“He has a point, Percy,” Thalia said. “Maybe _you_ should go to the library.”

“And why don’t _you_ go to the library, Thalia?” Percy challenged. “You’re always saying I’m going to mess something up, so you should go, just in case.”

Thalia glared at him. “I guess this is you chance to prove yourself then, isn’t it,” she shot back.

“I guess that’s settled then,” Nico piped up. “You should get on that, Percy.” The boy grinned and turned towards the castle. “See you at dinner!”

“Wha –” Percy turned, startled, as Thalia walked past him to follow Nico.

“Yep, see you then,” she said, waving.

“Hey!” Percy shouted at their retreating backs. “I didn’t agree to this!”

“Democracy, Percy!” Thalia called over her shoulder. “You were outvoted!”

Percy huffed as they disappeared from sight. _‘Why does this always happen?’_

~o~O~o~

“So, how was your library visit?” Hermione asked after Percy stumbled into the Great Hall for dinner.

“Take a wild guess,” Percy groaned, slumping down into a seat across from Thalia and Harry. “I have a headache bigger than the Argo II and I don’t think I learned anything at all.” Percy dropped his head onto the table with a _thunk._ “Remind me why people enjoy libraries?” He asked, his voice muffled.

Percy couldn’t see anything other than the wooden table, but he could practically feel Hermione frowning at him. “Maybe you need a different approach,” she said tactfully.

“So…nothing interesting at all?” Came Thalia’s voice.

Percy lifted his head to see Thalia staring at him, her eyebrows raised. “Nothing,” Percy replied, answering the unspoken question.

“Exactly how I feel mate,” Ron said from Percy’s left. “I don’t know how anyone could possible find studying interesting.” He shot a glance at Hermione. “No offense.”

Hermione huffed. “If you would only try a bit harder, then it wouldn’t be so boring!” She protested.

Harry shook his head. “I dunno Hermione,” he said. “I’m with Ron on this one, there’s nothing interesting about homework.”

“Have you had any luck figuring out the egg, Harry?” Nico asked, changing the subject before Hermione could start lecturing.

Harry shrugged. “I’ve listened to it a few times,” he said absently, stabbing his near-empty plate with his fork. “It still sounds like screeching.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it eventually,” Thalia said. “You’ve got nearly three whole months, after all.”

“As long as you’re actually working on it,” Hermione chimed in.

“Yeah yeah,” Harry said, waving his hand at her. “I get it, Hermione. No putting it off till the last minute.”

Sensing a lull in the conversation, Percy jumped in. “You’re training with Edward tonight, aren’t you?” He asked.

Harry made a face and stabbed his plate more aggressively. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Lucky me.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Harry, if you hate it that much then quit!”

“I’m sure Edward would be _thrilled,”_ Nico put in.

Harry shook his head. “As much as I hate to admit it, his training…it did help me when I was fighting the horntail. Who knows,” he said with a sigh. “Maybe it’ll save my life again someday.”

“In that case, stop complaining,” Thalia said, jabbing at Harry with her knife. “Learning to fight isn’t supposed to be easy.”

“There’s a difference between ‘easy’ and ‘non life-threatening’!” Harry protested.

“Ginny has been enjoying it,” Ron reminded them. “I haven’t heard her complain at all, in fact.”

“Really?” Percy asked, impressed.

Ron nodded fervently. “Ginny’s scary, mate. You haven’t seen her hexes.”

At the mention of Ginny, Harry had gone oddly still, and was staring off into the distance, as if he had tuned all of them out and was listening to something else entirely.

“Oi, Harry!” Ron waved a hand in front of his friend’s face. “You still in there?”

Harry blinked in surprise. “What? Yeah, sorry…must’ve zoned out or something.”

“Maybe you’re getting brain damage from those sparring sessions,” Percy joked.

Harry shook his head with a laugh, but it sounded forced. “I’m just – tired,” he said.

From there, the conversation turned to the ongoing classes, and complaints of what Ron called a ‘horrific' amount of homework. As the meal came to a close and the Great Hall began to grow empty, Harry stood to his feet with a sigh.

“I suppose I should head to the quidditch pitch,” he said.

“Hold up, I’ll come with you.” Ginny, who was sitting a few seats down, sprang to her feet. “I need to see Professor Moody about something in his office, but I’ll only be a minute –”

“You shouldn’t do that!” Harry blurted out.

Ginny frowned at him in confusion, as did Percy and the others.

“I mean –” Harry hurried to explain. “It’s already past seven, and you know that Ed doesn’t like us being late – you should see him tomorrow.”

“I…guess,” Ginny said slowly.

“Let’s go then,” Harry said, and began walking quickly towards the doors.

“Harry – wait!” Hermione rushed after him, followed closely by Ron and Ginny.

“Weird,” Percy said as he began following at a slower pace. Thalia and Nico quickly fell into step beside him.

“Is it just me, or is something up with Harry?” Nico asked in a hushed voice.

Thalia frowned. “No, something is definitely wrong,” she confirmed. “He’s been acting strange lately.”

“Maybe he’s just stressed,” Percy suggested. “He did have to fight a dragon, after all.”

Thalia shook her head. “No, this is different. He’s been acting on edge…jumpy, almost.”

“Do you think something is wrong?” Nico asked. By now, the group had exited the castle and was nearing the quidditch pitch.

“Maybe we should ask him about it,” Percy said. “If something’s really wrong, maybe he’ll tell us.”

“He wouldn’t tell us before he’d tell Hermione and Ron,” Thalia stated. “Besides, it could be nothing. Like you said, stress.”

“Oi!” Ron’s voice interrupted their conversation. “Could you walk any slower back there?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Thalia decided as they quickened their pace to catch up to their friends.

Edward was sitting in the stands, waiting. “What is this, a spectator event?” He asked, eyeing the group as they approached.

Harry shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”

“We wanted to watch,” Ron said. “Harry’s been complaining so much, we wanted to see why.”

Ed frowned. “There’s nothing to complain about!” He protested.

Harry scoffed in obvious disagreement. Ed rolled his eyes and jumped to his feet.

“Stretches first,” he said, addressing Ginny and Harry. “As long as you’re not in the way, I don’t care what you do,” he said to the rest of them.

Hermione and Ron shrugged and found seats at the bottom of the stands. Percy, Thalia, and Nico followed, taking seats directly behind them. Harry and Ginny had finished stretching, and they looked on in fascination as Ed began his instruction.

Percy could tell right away that Edward’s method of teaching was very different from the methods used by Camp Half-Blood. Percy wouldn’t say that the camp had the best safety regulations (the lava wall was proof enough of that), but they at least had some rules when it came to sparring. Edward on the other hand…well, as far as Percy could tell, he had set no precautions.

The alchemist was currently engaged in a two-on-one sparring match with Ginny and Harry…and he wasn’t losing. Of course, Percy knew that Edward had much more experience in hand-to-hand fighting then both Harry and Ginny combined, so of course this wouldn’t be challenging. Harry and Ginny did seem to be holding their own; Harry in particular. Obviously, his training with Edward had helped him improve.

That being said, Percy found himself tracking Edward’s every movement as the blond fought. Percy had years of experience in fighting, with both monsters and humans; even with gods, on occasion. The way that Edward fought was so… _different._

“Blimey, how does he do that?” Ron wondered, staring at Ed as he performed some sort of acrobatic maneuver that put distance between him and his opponents.

“I guess he really held back on us last year, huh,” Percy commented, recalling their detentions from the previous year.

After maybe fifteen minutes of this, Edward held up his hand, signaling for them to stop. “I’d say you’re sufficiently warmed up,” he announced.

“Warmed up?” Hermione asked, disbelief evident in her tone. Harry shot them a look that said ‘what did I tell you?’

From there, Edward sent Harry to sit down while he demonstrated proper techniques to Ginny.

“See?” Harry said as he collapsed into a seat next to Ron, breathing heavily. “He’s crazy.”

Thalia shrugged. “I don’t know, it seems pretty reasonable,” she said, nodding to where Ed was correcting Ginny’s stance.

Harry grunted. “He’ll spend maybe five minutes doing that,” he informed them. “Then it’s more sparring, because, according to him, ‘you can’t learn without pain’.”

“He’s not wrong,” Nico commented.

Harry let out a long-suffering sigh, but didn’t say anything else. True to Harry’s testimony, Edward only spent a minimal amount of time giving actual instruction; and the majority of the two hours was spent in physical combat. When Edward announced the end of their lesson, even he was out of breath. Harry and Ginny immediately took their leave, declaring their desperate need to shower.

“We’ll be up in a minute,” Thalia said to Ron and Hermione, waving for them to go on ahead. As soon as they were out of sight, the three demigods turned their attention to Edward, who’s face had turned stone cold.

“So…” Percy began.

_“So,”_ Edward replied, barely restrained anger, evident in his tone, “you owe me an explanation. Start talking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys…I cannot express how much I regret completely dropping off the map like that…for nearly four weeks…it was not intentional. I’ve had writers block before, but this was more…emotional block? I had absolutely no motivation to do…anything, pretty much, and so I didn’t get anything done with this story, because I was focused on making myself work on school, family life, etc. I’ve been really emotionally down lately, and I don’t know why. This chapter has not been beta-read yet, and I’ve barely edited anything at all, because I wanted to get the chapter to you as soon as possible. I literally just finished typing the last sentence. So yeah.
> 
> I’ll try my very hardest to get the next chapter out MUCH sooner. I already have the first part written, so that’s something. On another note, I’m starting to respond to reviews now, just thought I’d let you guys know haha. On that note…I know that I am completely undeserving, but I would really appreciate a review right now…I really need some motivation (even thought I’m a complete piece of trash who can’t update on time).


	14. Explanations and Exhaustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

 

**Edward**

Edward glared at three teenagers standing before him. _“So,”_ he hissed, barely restrained anger evident in his tone, “you owe me an explanation. Start talking.”  


“Right to the point, I see,” Percy muttered. Ed glared at him.

Nico jumped in before the situation could escalate. “It’s complicated,” he said hurriedly.

“You’re damn right it’s _complicated,”_ Ed growled, clenching his fists and taking a step forward.

“Listen,” Thalia said forcefully, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “This situation is _way more_ than you think it is. We shouldn’t even be telling you anything at all –”

“But we are,” Nico cut in. “Because it’s the best decision.”

“And,” Percy hurried to add. “Because we trust you – for now.”

“More like we don’t have a choice,” Thalia spat, crossing her arms over her chest with a glare.

“Get to the point already,” Ed said impatiently. “We don’t have all night.”

The three teens glanced at each other uneasily. Percy was the one to speak.

“The reason that everyone thinks Susan and Luna’s deaths were an accident,” he began, “is because Thalia used the mist to change their memories. We all,” he gestured to the three of them, “agreed that changing everyone’s memories was the only option, because we knew that Sirius Black was innocent.”

Thalia stepped in to take over for Percy. “Also, we couldn’t have people thinking that Sirius had killed two people at Hogwarts, because that would –” Thalia cut herself off, clenching her jaw, then forced herself to continue. “That would mess up the timeline,” she forced out.

Edward narrowed his eyes at them. “What.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a declaration of confusion.

“Well…” Percy spoke again. “You remember last year, when we were in the hospital wing, after everything that happened in the Shrieking Shack, and Hermione and Harry time traveled?”

“That shouldn’t be possible, but yes,” Edward replied.

Percy nodded. “Well, think of that, but, like…on a much larger scale.”

Silence. Edward stared at them.

“No.”

“I figured you would say that,” Nico muttered.

“No,” Edward repeated, his mind racing as he struggled to accept their implications.

“The reason we knew that Sirius was innocent is because we know _everything_ that’s going to happen in the next few years,” Thalia said, continuing as if Edward hadn’t spoken. “The only problem is that there’s someone else from the future, and she –”

_“No!”_ Edward said again, his expression slowly giving way to horror. “That is _not scientifically possible!”_

Thalia gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re at a school for _magic!_ ” She cried, throwing her hands in the air. _“_ You’re talking to three kids who are _descended from gods!_ When are you going to accept that science doesn’t really matter?!”

Edward made a noise like a strangled cat and looked at Thalia as if she had told him that the sky wasn’t really blue.

“Look,” Nico said, “we’re only telling you this because you’re somehow immune to the mist – but you can’t tell _anyone_ else. If too many people know, then it could ruin the entire timeline, and cause all sorts of problems in the future.”

Edward stared at the three of them for several seconds before muttering something in Amestrian that Al probably – no, definitely – would have smacked him on the head for.

Thalia raised an eyebrow at him.

“I hate all of you,” Ed muttered, bringing his flesh hand up to tug at his bangs. “You, and your _prophecies_ and your _time travel,_ because what the hell, why not, of _course_ time travel is possible now, and _of course_ I got thrown into the middle of your _time-traveling demigod war,_ because _why the hell not?!_ ”

“Are you done?” Nico asked.

Edward glared at the boy. “I could keep going if you want,” he hissed.

“We don’t have all night,” Thalia interrupted. “We need to explain everything, and it’s almost curfew.”

“What do you mean _explain everything?_ ” Ed cried. “What, there’s _more_ now?!”

The three demigods exchanged glances. “Uh, yeah,” Percy said. “Much more.”

“Maybe we should go inside,” Nico suggested. “This may take a while.”

~o~O~o~

Approximately five minutes later, the four teenagers entered the relative safety of Edward’s classroom. Edward yanked his chair from behind his desk and sat down, his arms folded over his chest. Thalia, Nico, and Percy chose to forego chairs completely, and instead sat atop the front row of desks. Thalia was the first to speak.

“We can’t tell you everything, of course,” she began. “If too many people know too much about the future, then it could really mess up the timeline.” She clenched her jaw and looked away. “We shouldn’t be telling you any of this at all,” she muttered.

Percy threw his head back with a groan. “We’ve been over this, Thalia,” he said, exasperated. “This is the best option!”

Thalia glared at him hotly. “There are about a million ways this could backfire on us,” she retorted. “It’s not the _best_ option, it’s the _only_ option, and I still don’t agree with it!”

“Hey!” Ed snapped. “Could you stop bickering and start talking?”

“He’s right,” Nico said. “We don’t have all night, let’s just get this over with.”

Thalia and Percy nodded reluctantly.

“Where do we even start?” Percy said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s kinda complicated, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“To put it simply,” Thalia began, “A demigod from our time –”

“Wait, hold on.” Edward raised a hand in gesture for her to stop talking. “When exactly is…” he grit his teeth together before forcing out the next words. “ _Your_ time?”

“2010,” Percy answered. “Fifteen years from now, plus a few months.”

“Anyway,” Thalia said, continuing before Edward was even able to process that information, “A demigod from our time traveled back in time to this time period – well, last year, technically. The gods detected her use of magic, and when and where she was going, and sent us to deal with her.”

Ed frowned. “They sent _you?_ Why didn’t they just come and deal with her themselves?”

Percy laughed bitterly. “Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that for a long time.”

“That’s not important,” Thalia said, though Ed could see hidden anger in her expression. “What matters is that Elsie, the time-jumper – she could ruin the timeline.”

“She already has,” Nico added softly, looking at the ground. “Luna and Susan…they weren’t supposed to die. No one was…not yet.”

Edward felt something inside him grow cold. “What do you mean _they weren’t supposed to die?”_

The three teens winced and looked away.

“We already know that we messed up,” Percy muttered. “And if we had known –” Percy cut himself off. “We just have to stop her before she hurts anyone else.”

“But that’s why I had to change everyone’s memories,” Thalia explained. “Because everyone believed that Sirius Black killed them – but he’s innocent. He hasn’t killed anyone. The memories that I gave everyone in the Shrieking Shack – those are memories of what was supposed to happen.”

Ed nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense,” he admitted grudgingly.

“That’s not all though,” Nico said. “You…” the boy gave him an odd look. “You aren’t supposed to be here. I mean, at Hogwarts. You aren’t in the original timeline.”

…

_“What?!”_ Edward leaped to his feet, fists clenched. “I’m not supposed to _be here?!_ I could be back in Amestris, doing what I _need_ to be doing, if it weren’t for that _fu –”_

“Okay calm down,” Thalia interrupted. “There’s nothing you can do to change it, so there’s no reason to get worked up over it.”

“No reason? _No reason?!”_ Ed stared at Thalia. “There are _plenty_ of reason’s for me to be angry that a _demigod_ decided to _travel back in time_ and, for some reason, drag me _thousands of miles_ away from my home for nearly _two years!_ What the hell does she even want me for?!”

“Well…that’s what we don’t know,” Percy said, fiddling with a pen that he had pulled out without Ed noticing. “We were actually hoping that you might have an idea.”

“That’s why we asked you about Nicole Elric,” Nico added. “In Percy’s dream, Elsie met someone named Nicole Elric. But you said you didn’t know her, so it was another dead end. She probably doesn’t even exist yet.”

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense,” Ed said, furrowing his brow. “Even if this ‘Nicole’ person is a – ah –  _descendant –_ of me, then in fifteen years, she would still be a kid.”

“But the woman in my dream looked at least twenty,” Percy said slowly. “The same age as Elsie. So…how does that add up?”

“Yeah,” Thalia said, staring intently at the floor. “That can’t be…she would be born already.”

“However she exists, she must be the one that told Elsie about you,” Nico said to Ed. “And for some reason, Elsie decided that you’re important to her plan.”

“And it has to be something about _you specifically,_ ” Thalia emphasized. “Otherwise she would have chosen any random alchemist.” Thalia gave him a pointed look.

“What?” Ed asked, raising his hands defensively. “I don’t know why she would pick me!”

“Wait a second,” Percy interjected, his face lighting up. “If Elsie needs you so bad, then why can’t you just leave? If you’re back in Amestris, then you won’t be here for Elsie to use!”

Ed scoffed. “Oh yeah, that’ll work. And what should I tell the Amestrian military when they ask why I disobeyed direct orders from the Fuhrer? ‘Sorry sir, but a half-god, half-human witch traveled back in time to use me for her evil plan. Oh, how do I know? Some teenagers told me.’” Ed glared at them. “I’m _sure_ they would believe me.”

“Alright, alright,” Percy grumbled, slouching in his seat. “Maybe that’s not the best plan.”

“Wait a second,” Nico interrupted, a look of concentration on his face. “Could Elsie wanting you have something to do with –” Nico cut himself off and glanced at Percy and Thalia. “You know…the thing you told me about?”

Thalia gave Nico a suspicious look. “What thing?”

Edward ignored her and spoke to Nico. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess maybe it could, but…I don’t see how.”

“Could one of you explain what you’re talking about?” Percy asked, glancing between Nico and Ed. “I’m lost.”

Nico raised an eyebrow at Ed. “We did tell you all of our secrets,” he pointed out. “You might as well tell them. Especially with everything that’s at stake here.”

Ed frowned. “Fine,” he admitted. “I guess you’re right.”

“Does this have to do with that ‘feeling’ you had last year?” Thalia asked, her eyes lighting up with understanding. Nico nodded in affirmation.

“You can’t tell anyone else, understand?” Ed said sharply, glaring at Percy and Thalia. “If this gets out, then it would get me in a lot of trouble; and who knows what would happen to Al…”

“Alphonse?” Nico asked, frowning. “You didn’t tell me anything about him.”

“That’s because you didn’t need to know,” Ed replied. “But now…well, now it might actually matter.”

“So, what is it?” Percy asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

Ed dropped his gaze to the floor for several seconds before answering. “I’m sure you know that it is impossible to bring the dead back to life,” he began.

“Well, technically,” Percy began, but was interrupted by Nico elbowing him in the stomach.

Edward gave him an odd look before continuing. “In Alchemy, there is a theoretical array that is said to be able to create a person – to bring someone back to life. It’s called human transmutation, and it is strictly forbidden.” A small smile crossed Ed’s face. “It’s funny – I was actually planning on teaching you about it in class tomorrow. Or, more accurately, teaching you why it should never be attempted.”

“…And why is that?” Thalia asked, but her tone indicated that she already knew the answer.

“It never works,” Ed answered. “It’s impossible. Even if you have all of the ingredients for a human body, nothing is equivalent to the price of a human soul. Al and I…we learned that the hard way.” Ed knocked his right hand against his metal leg. “I lost my left leg, and Al…he lost his entire body.”

Percy inhaled sharply. “So that’s why – that armour –”

Ed nodded. “The armor is empty – it’s what keeps Al’s soul from going through the gate.”

“Gate?” Thalia asked. “What gate?”

Ed winced. “That…is a very hard question to answer,” he said with a sigh. “The basic explanation is that there is a…being, I guess you could call him. Even I’m not entirely sure what he is. He called himself God, or Truth, and a bunch of other things.”

Percy and Thalia were obviously trying their best to understand, but it was obvious that they were still confused.

“The point is, he’s in charge of alchemy,” Edward said. “The gate that I mentioned is the…” Ed shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know the word in English – the gateway? It doesn’t matter. It holds all the information about alchemy. When I went through the gate, I gained some of that knowledge. That is why I can transmute without a circle.”

“I think I get it,” Thalia said, furrowing her brow in concentration. “But what about Al? How is he not dead?”

“When he lost his body, his soul traveled into the gate,” Edward explained. “I was able to pull it back through the gate and attach it to his armor.” Ed tapped his steel arm. “That’s how I lost my arm.”

“Wait a second,” Percy said, his eyes widening. “If Al is just a soul attached to a suit of armour – doesn’t that mean he’s affectively immortal?”

Ed frowned. “Well, technically, yes,” he admitted. “But it’s not a good thing! Living as a suit of armour – it’s terrible.”

“Well, yeah,” Percy said, “but that’s not the point!” He turned to Nico and Thalia. “If Elsie really did travel back in order to help Voldemort, like we’ve been assuming – what is it that Voldemort wants more than anything else?”

Nico’s eyes widened with understanding, and Thalia inhaled sharply.

Percy nodded. “Immortality. And with Edward…” Percy turned to fix the alchemist with a grave stare. “He would be able to get it.”

~o~O~o~

Edward wasn’t very surprised that he was unable to get more than four hours of sleep. Not only had his… _enlightening_ discussion lasted well into the night, but his brain was thrown into overdrive, which kept him tossing and turning for a long while before he finally drifted into a restless slumber. A slumber that, unfortunately, was interrupted much too early for Ed’s liking, by Al reminding him that if he wanted to eat before his first class, he needed to get up.

Somehow, Ed managed to drag himself out of bed and into the Great Hall without collapsing along the way, but he still felt as if his body were trying to shut down on him.

_‘Of all the days I chose to teach about human transmutation,’_ Ed grumbled to himself. _‘Of all the days, it had to be the one where I can barely think straight. Maybe I should talk about something else…’_ Ed shook his head, both as a negation to his own thoughts and to shake wakefulness into his brain. _‘No. They need to know what it is, and why it’s forbidden, or one of them may make the same mistake that I did. It’s important.’_

Edward reached the staff table and slouched into a seat at the very end before reaching for the first edible object on the table in front of him.

“Mr. Elric, you really need to start taking better care of yourself,” said Professor McGonagall from across the table. “How much sleep did you get last night?”

Ed waved his hand dismissively and muttered a half-hearted answer.

“Sleep is important, you know,” came a gruff voice to Ed’s right.

Ed turned, startled, to see that Professor Moody was sitting next to him. _‘Crap. I didn’t mean to sit next to anybody…especially him…’_ As much as Ed hated to admit it, the battle-scarred professor creeped him out.

“Keeps you sharp,” Moody continued, oblivious to Ed’s inner monologue. “Constant vigilance, boy! You could be attacked at any moment!”

“Yeah, sure,” Ed responded. “And how many scars did you have to get before you decided to take your own advice? ‘Cause it seems to me that either you have the worst luck, or you are _terrible_ at fighting.”

Only after Professor McGonagall’s fork dropped onto her plate with a clatter did Edward realize that perhaps he shouldn’t have said that out loud.

_‘Whoops. Hopefully he won’t hate me now. Though…he wouldn’t be the first…’_

Moody had fixed Ed with a steely gaze, and Ed was beginning to wonder if he should start running when the professor barked out a laugh and stood from the table.

“You’ve got spirit, boy,” he said, grinning near-maniacally. “You’ll do well.” Moody limped past Edward’s chair and towards the door, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed.

Both Edward and Professor McGonagall turned their heads to watch as the professor limped out of the Great Hall. Perhaps it was Edward’s imagination, but he felt as if a chill had seized him, beginning Moody’s hand had touched his shoulder. With a shrug and a shake of his head, Ed dismissed the feeling as paranoia and returned to his breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I am late again, but not nearly as late as last time, so that’s a plus, right? I’ve been really sick today, so finishing this chapter was a challenge, and I’m sure that there are plenty of mistakes. On another note…ooooh the plot’s starting to pick up, huh? This chapter had a lot of exposition, but with that finally out of the way, we get to move on to the more exciting stuff :D  
> (Comments are my lifeblood)


	15. Authors Note

Hey guys…sorry this isn’t the chapter you were expecting and probably waiting for. I never thought I would have to do this, and I really wish that I didn’t, but I’m going on temporary hiatus. I’ve come to realize that this story hasn’t been as enjoyable for me to write – I’ve been stressing about deadlines and getting the next chapter written, instead of just enjoying the process of writing the story, like I was when I first started. Those of you who have commented have all been overwhelmingly supportive, and I can’t thank you enough.

I’m really sorry to have to do this to you guys, but I really need to step back and take care of some mental issues before I can get back into writing and actually enjoying it. Don’t worry though, I have no intentions of abandoning this story!! I will definitely be back! I’m not planning on leaving for too long; I’ll probably be back sometime in late May, after my summer break starts and I have plenty of free time again. If I decide to wait longer then that, then I will post an update on here. I’ll also delete this authors note after I publish the next chapter.

Again, I’m sorry to do this, but never fear, I will return! And when I do, hopefully I will have sorted through everything (to some extent) and I will no longer feel like a burnt-out fuse. Thank you all for sticking with me for so long! I will see you in May!


	16. Annoyance and Alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; it stands to reason that I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song ‘This is War’ by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_“blah blah”_ \- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

 

**“blah blah”** \- Speaking Amestrian

 

_‘blah blah’_ \- Thinking

 

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

* * *

 

**Harry**

“Harryyyy…” the girl perched atop a library table swung her legs and pouted. “I’m bored!”

Harry glared at the parchment in front of him and tried to ignore the girl that only he could see. The girl stopped swinging her legs and frowned.

“C’mon Harry,” she wheedled. “Talk to me! It’s not like you’re actually getting any work done over there!”

_‘Maybe I would be,’_ Harry thought in annoyance, _‘if you would stuff it so I can concentrate.’_

“You can’t ignore me forever, you know.”

_‘Wanna bet?’_

“After all…I did save Ginny, didn’t I?”

Harry sucked in his breath sharply and tightened his grip on his quill. “I don’t know that for sure,” he muttered. “You could just be making stuff up to annoy me, _Alex._ ”

Alex’s composure brightened immediately. “He speaks!” She cheered, thrusting her hands into the air. “Though I am disappointed by how very little trust you seem to have in me…what can I do to prove myself to you?”

“Nothing.” Harry finally turned his head to glare at the girl. “So shut it, and let me work.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Alex raise a finger to her lips in a mock-serious gesture. “Quiet, Harry,” she whispered. “This _is_ a library, you know. Not to mention…” a smile tugged at her lips. “You wouldn’t want people to think you’re crazy, would you?”

Harry felt that if he clenched his jaw any tighter he might break it. “All the more reason for you to leave me alone,” he ground out.

“But that’s no fun,” Alex whined, throwing her head back. “Why can’t you go somewhere else so we can talk?”

“Why would I want to talk to you?” Harry hissed.

“Well, you’re talking to me right now,” Alex pointed out. “Besides, you’re the only person _I_ can talk to, or else I would find somebody else.”

“That’s your own fault,” Harry reminded her. “You didn’t have to make yourself appear to me and only me.”

Alex cocked an eyebrow at him. “You clearly have no idea how this works,” she said dryly. “And before you ask, no, I am not going to ‘enlighten’ you.”

Harry decided against answering, knowing that it wouldn’t accomplish anything, and would only lead to another unwanted conversation. The whole situation that he found himself in gave him a headache just thinking about it. Harry slammed his book shut and pushed away from the table. Forget studying. He wasn’t getting anything done. Besides that, it was nearly time for dinner. Rising to his feet, Harry began to gather his spare parchments, quills, and ink-bottles and stuff them into his bag.

Alex hopped off of the table she was perched upon, a grin lighting up her face. “Where are we going?” She asked, falling in step with Harry as he exited the library. “Somewhere interesting, I hope. More interesting than a library, that is. Not that libraries are boring. I actually find them very interesting, when I can actually use the books. But I can’t use the books, for obvious reasons. Which makes them boring. Are we going somewhere were we can talk? That would be nice. Do you think that –”

“Would you shut up!” Harry hissed, whirling to face the invisible girl.

Two passing first-years gave Harry an odd look, hurrying down the hall away from him. Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, gripping the messy black locks in frustration. Turning away from Alex, he tightened his grip on his bag and marched down the hallway, determined to ignore the girl beside him.

“That’s not very polite,” Alex muttered, but she was silent for the rest of the walk to the dining hall.

“Harry! I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up!” Percy greeted as Harry slumped into a chair next to him. “How’s studying?”

“About as good as it normally is I suppose,” Ron said around a mouthful of potatoes. “Which is not good at all.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at the two of them. “It’s not all that bad.”

“Whatever you say, Hermione,” Ron said with a wave of his hand.

Harry smiled as he felt some of his stress slip away. Surrounded by his friends, the clamor of the dining hall, and mouth watering food, it was almost easy for him to forget about Alex. The girl stood just behind Harry, invisible to all but him, her arms across her chest as she observed him with narrowed eyes.

~o~O~o~

Two weeks passed, with December arriving swiftly. The weather was cold and bitter, a perfect match for Harry’s mood. ‘Alex’ had not stopped appearing to Harry, coming up on three weeks since her first appearance. The girl was there every time he opened his eyes in the morning, grinning her childish grin, tilting her head and saying in that singsong voice, _‘What’s it gonna be today, Harry~?’_ Harry had tried every way he could think of to tell his friends of the strange girl, but no matter what he did, whether it be open his mouth to speak or attempt to write it down, Alex was in front of him, waving her finger with a disapproving frown.

Whoever ‘Alex’ was, she was real, Harry was sure of it. A hallucination did not have that kind of power. Despite deciding this, Harry couldn’t fathom who ‘Alex’ could possible be – there was no way she was who she said she was – and whatever spell she was using to control him was far too powerful for someone her age. Nothing about the girl made any kind of sense. Try as he might, Harry simply could not come to a reasonable conclusion. So he was forced to endure her constant presence, and every day she drove him closer to the edge.

Because of the circumstances, Harry’s state of mind was less than stable the day that Professor McGonagall announced the Yule Ball at the end of Transfiguration. While McGonagall explained the parameters of the Ball, emphasizing that they were all expected to find a partner, Harry dropped his head into his arms with a low groan.

_‘Perfect. Just what I needed,’_ he thought bitterly.

“Oooooh~!” Came the all-too-familiar voice next to Harry. “I’ve always wanted to go to a ball!” Alex’s usual grin widened further than Harry thought should be possible. “Too bad I can’t actually do anything while I’m there.” She shrugged, the smile still on her face. “Oh well. I’m sure I’ll still have fun!”

_‘I guess that makes one of us,’_ Harry grumbled internally as McGonagall dismissed the class. Gathering his bag, Harry tuned Alex’s rambling, something he was becoming exceptionally good at. So good at, in fact, that he completely missed Ron’s question.

“Oi!” The redhead waved his hand in front of Harry’s face. “You still with us mate?”

“Sorry,” Harry replied, startled. “Spaced out for a minute.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Thalia commented as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. “Have you been sleeping okay?”

“Fine,” Harry lied as the group began walking down the hall. “Just got distracted is all.”

“Who are you planning on asking to the Yule Ball?” Percy asked, hints of a teasing smirk on his face. “Got anyone special in mind?”

Harry shrugged, attempting to seem nonchalant even as his thoughts jumped to Cho Chang. “Nobody in particular.”

“Two lies in less than five minutes,” Alex piped up from behind Harry. “That’s a new record!”

“What about you?” Harry asked, ignoring Alex and focusing on Percy. “I’m not the only one has to find a partner.”

Percy’s expression changed, but it was so brief that Harry almost thought he imagined the sadness that crossed the boy’s face. “Nah,” he said easily. “I’ll find somebody though.”

“What about you, Thalia?” Ron asked with a smirk. “I’m sure Dean would _love_ to – ack!” Ron doubled over, clutching his midsection where Thalia had elbowed him. “Thalia!” He wheezed.

Nico snickered. “You were asking for that.”

“Don’t get me started on you, Death Breath!” Thalia snarled. “This is _your_ fault.”

“I don’t see what you’re so worked up about,” Nico said. “There’s an easy solution to this problem. We go together, as friends. Neither of us have to find a date, Dean is off your back, and I still win my bet. Problem solved!”

Thalia narrowed her eyes at Nico. “Somehow I think that you’re more concerned about your bet than anything else,” she muttered. “But yes, that was my plan too.”

“Come on, you two have it easy!” Ron whined, having recovered from Thalia’s attack.

Nico shrugged. “I’m sure if you look hard enough, you’ll find a girl desperate enough that she’d be willing to be your date.”

“Don’t you have alchemy class soon?” Harry jumped in as Ron sputtered for a response.

“As a matter of fact, we do,” Hermione said. “And you know how Edward feels about us being late,” she said with a pointed look at Percy and Nico, who grimaced.

“It was _one_ time!” Percy protested. “ _One!_ If you ask me, he overreacted.”

“It was your own fault,” Thalia said. “Let’s just go, so it doesn’t happen again.”

Nico voiced his agreement, and the four students turned down a separate hallway, leaving Harry and Ron alone.

“That’s much better. I was tired of not having any room to walk next to you.”

Well…almost alone.

Harry grit his teeth and gripped the shoulder strap of his bag so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Alex smiled.

~/o\~/O\~/o\~

The night was cool, still, and foggy – very foggy. So foggy that attempting to see anything was like staring directly into a blanket. It was quiet – very quiet. So quiet that it was unnatural. No insects, no animals, not even a whisper of a breeze through the tall grass that stretched endlessly through the sea of white. The silence and the fog stretched on, and on, and on, and on, giving off a sense of claustrophobia that was hardly rational when standing in the middle of a field.

In the middle of all of this there sat a woman. In a perfect circle of cleared grass, she sat, her legs folded underneath her, her hands resting lightly on her knees, and her eyes closed. She seemed to sit perfectly still, without even breathing. Her long hair trailed down her back, coming to a stop millimeters away from touching the ground.

“The bloody hell is all this? Some sort of spell?” The coarse voice shattered what had seemed to be an unbreakable silence, and the woman’s eyes flew open.

After two heartbeats that seemed to last an eternity, the silence resettled. The woman rose to her feet so gracefully that is seemed as if she were floating. Her soft, clear voice did not disrupt the silence the way the first had; instead, it seemed to melt into the fog, twisting its way around so that it only reached the ears of her listener, as if the voice, somehow, was itself part of the silence.

“I did not bring you here to ask questions. I simply want answers. Can you do what I request?” The woman’s voice was toneless, but full of melody, soft, but harsh, warm, but cold, inviting, but dismissive. Her voice was like herself – impossible to understand.

The intruder shifted uncomfortably, realizing that the woman was not all she seemed. “Yes.” He flinched at his own voice, too loud, too intrusive, too rough, not suitable for the place in which he unleashed it. “I can do it.” Even at a whisper, the man inwardly cursed the sound of his own voice.

The woman nodded. As with everything she did, her movement blended seamlessly with her environment. “Good. Meet me back here when you have it.”

The man swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously around the fog, though he did not see anything other than white. “H-here?” He forced out, trying to ignore his growing anxiety.

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

Realizing his mistake, the man hastily attempted to cover for himself. “I mean – how will I contact you? How will I let you know to meet me?”

The woman stared passively at the man for several seconds. He shifted on his feet, clenching and unclenching his sweating hands, feeling more and more nervous by the second. At last, the woman answered.

“Come when you have it,” she said. “I will be here.” With that, the woman turned away from the man. With one step, she had disappeared completely into the fog.

The man’s knees nearly gave way with relief, and he wasted no time in turning to run from the fog, the woman, and the unearthly silence that threatened to swallow him whole.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYSSSSSSS. I’m back!!!!! I’m so excited to be writing this story again!!! Also, sorry this chapter came out wayyyy later May than I was thinking it would…from now on I’ll do my best to be back on my usual update schedule, which is once every 2 weeks, give or take a few days. But hey, I update as soon as I have the chapter finished, so it could be sooner. Who knows. Anyways………this chapter isn’t the greatest. In fact, I really don’t like this chapter. But it’s written, and that’s what matters. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it!! I would absolutely love to hear from you :D Seriously, comments would be amazing. I missed hearing from you guys so much while I was gone! This hiatus did wonders for me though, and I am doing much better mentally. I can’t thank you guys enough for the support!! I hope you enjoyed, and I’ll see you next chapter!!
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. – I got an Instagram for my art, if any of you are interested in following me there. (Shameless self plug, I know) It’s @silverdam_art. I even have a few FMA fan arts posted.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m baaaaaaaack! Man, I needed that break way more then I though I did…I kinda burned myself out by writing so much, I think. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the second book! Also, I am now looking for a beta. If anyone would like to volunteer, or recommend someone, or whatever, feel free to PM me. In the meantime, please drop a review and tell me if it was worth the wait!


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